


Bridging Worlds

by Rigel99



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Complete, Falling In Love, Klingon, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigel99/pseuds/Rigel99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reed and Hayes have come to a strained understanding after their ruckus in "Harbinger" but still there is no love lost. A new mission for Enterprise might make them see each other in a new light. Part 1 of my "Matthew Hayes Resurrected" series. (Nothing belongs to me except Meara Shaw. Just enjoying the stars...) COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Deep breath. Calm. Absolute… Her white space enveloping her whole in its serenity. Three years on Vulcan have taught her more than she could have dreamed. Control. Centred. The fiery temper of her youth now channeled in the direction fate had mapped out for her all along. Granted, the heat on the planet had damn near sucked the life out of her, but under her Vulcan mentor's hand, she'd adapted. Even though he betrayed no feelings or shared no opinions on her evolution, she could see he was proud - in a very Vulcan way of course.

Now, it was time. Her tenure on Vulcan had come to an end. Earth needed an Ambassador to Qo'nos. She was that Ambassador.

Starfleet's flagship Enterprise would take her there.

* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer was sitting in his ready room, giving his screen an appraising look. Admiral Max Forrest - on his monitor - gazed back.

"You've read her file, Jon?"

"I have, Admiral. And frankly, I can't believe that Starfleet would be so reckless as to entertain the notion of keeping Soong's work alive, never mind building on it after the horrors of the Eugenics Wars."

"Soong's work was guiding more than anything else. Apparently she's is a natural step in our evolution. Believe me, I shared your misgivings when the nature of the project was presented to me too, Captain. That said, she has proven exceptional in so many ways. Under the guidance of the Denobulans and the Vulcans the project has moved at a pace that permitted a furthering of that evolution no one really expected."

"Instinct and intellect have reached a mutual understanding?" Archer looked nonplussed. "I'll believe it when I see it, Admiral."

"Well, I'm happy to be able to give you the opportunity, Captain. You and Enterprise will be accompanying the Ambassador on a diplomatic mission to Qo'nos."

"A diplomatic mission to the heart of the Klingon Empire? Are you sure Enterprise is the right ship for the job? I'm hardly Mr Popular with the Klingons and wouldn't want to jeopard—"

Forrest raised his hand. "Nice try, Jon. Columbia is otherwise engaged in business on Andoria so Enterprise has to go."

Archer didn't look convinced.

"You will be pleased to know that Kolos recently took a position on the Klingon High Council. He is paving the way for better relations between our worlds. Who knows? Soon we might have Klingons serving aboard Starfleet vessels."

Archer gave him a lop-sided grin and a raised eyebrow… "Now that's just crazy talk, Admiral…"

* * *

"Do you think they even realise they're doing it?" Chang whispered conspiratorially.

The Enterprise crew and Hayes MACOs team had received their orders: Enterprise was going to Qo'nos and the MACOs would be joining them. Much to Lieutenant Malcolm Reed's chagrin.

"No way. Love is blind you know," murmured Cole through slightly parted lips.

The crew had been given two weeks leave while systems on the starship were repaired, modified and put through their paces, but the security team and the MACOs had waived one of those weeks in favour of getting in additional training. It may be a diplomatic mission, but the Head of Enterprise security held no naive illusions about the nature of the territory into which they would be venturing.

Currently, Reed was making a fair attempt at demonstrating to Major Hayes the old adage, the bigger they are, the harder they fall…

"OOOOF!"

"At least you're keeping your left up, Major, though perhaps a little closer to the body next time…"

"I'll take that under advisement, Lieutenant," replied Hayes, before rising to his feet quicker than a man of his bulk could be given credit for, lunging at the midsection of his opponent, and tossing him in a backflip, knocking the wind out of Malcolm, before pinning him to the mat.

"I'll give you that round, Major."

"Thank you, Sir."

Chang shot Cole a glance and a smirk.

"Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Corporal?" Damn. Hayes was highly attuned to the slightest nuances. He's like some kind of divining rod when it comes to his team. Chang should have known better than try and get one over on him.

"NO SIR!" He responded with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. He could sense Cole trying to contain her own mirth. He'd deal with her later.

"Glad to hear it, Corporal."

"Right. You know the drill. MACO pair with Fleeter and get working on those moves. And try and mix it up. Klingons apparently fight with honour but that doesn't mean we have to."

Reed stood next to Hayes to observe the session.

"So you read the files?" Reed enquired.

"Yes, Sir. It's scant information at best but I thought it wise to familiarise myself with what we had. Also, they don't seem so different from our Earth version of the brutal steal-your-land, take-your-women warrior set."

That surprised Reed. He really didn't want to like the man, but was finding it more and more difficult to find reasons to dislike him. Still, good to maintain a healthy degree of coolness in his demeanour. He still got a kick out of annoying Hayes and downright relished the fact that he was his superior. Though maybe not as superior as he thought. "So you're a historian as well now, are you?"

Hayes shot him a quick glance. There were still times he wanted to bounce Reed's head off the nearest bulkhead, though those feelings were diminishing. Now that the pressures of the Xindi crisis had abated. Who knows? This mission to the Klingon home world might bridge the chasm that both still seemed to occupy either side of. Not as soldiers. But as men. Hayes snorted inwardly at the thought. Yeah. And maybe a Klingon might win a 20th century beauty pageant…

"Only when there is a need to understand your adversary. Sir. Offence being the best defence and all," responded Hayes levelly before turning his attention back to the training session.

"Quite." He can be such a smart arse, thought Reed. But then so can I when the mood takes me I suppose…

* * *

Her first up close and personal encounter with Enterprise.

She watched in silent deference as the shuttlepod glided along the sleek body of Earth's first Warp 5 Starship, breathing a silent thanks to the Universe for breathing life into her at this particular point in time. Humanity was finally doing what it was supposed to do. Sure, it had taken a few billion years but hell, it was worth the wait.

Her Uncle had always told her she was destined for something special, something more than she could comprehend. At the time, she had thought destiny nothing less than some cruel being created by an indifferent Universe that she wanted to grab by the throat and squeeze the life out of. It was her way of applying definition and explanation to the loss of her parents, taken so young. She remembered her mother's smile and her father's gentle laugh and clung to that memory like a lifeline to sanity - her first memory - as she lay wrapped in the warmth of their arms, eyes barely open. As she grew older, her perpetual anger warred with that memory, dimming it year by year. She had been so angry for so long that when Section 31 found her and took her under its wing, she was ready to self-destruct. Fortunately, Section 31 had recognised an anger and a potential that could be channelled. They put her through Starfleet Academy and that had been her grounding, the discipline she needed to tame her warrior-esque temperament. Despite her youth, she excelled. Extra covert training. Evenings and weekends learning about new life and new civilisations. Unforgettable experiences on Vulcan and Andoria - extremes to test and stretch her beyond her limits. And all the time collecting information on Earth's new Galactic allies. She had revelled in the thrill of espionage.

"Instinct aligned with intellect" they had called it, and she had not known what that had really meant until meeting the infamous Dr Soong…

Except she was a natural Augment. A rearrangement of DNA that sometimes spontaneously appears in a species. And Section 31 had exploited her for all she was worth to them. Not that she had cause to complain. She had been respected, admired and trusted, and she had never betrayed that trust. It was no doubt what had earned the role in which she presently found herself. Though how Starfleet Command had managed to convince Section 31 to part with her for this particular mission she couldn't begin to guess…

She felt the solid clunk of metal on metal as the pod docked and smiled. The mission aside, it would be interesting to catch up with an old friend too. The last time they had crossed paths was her Starfleet graduation ceremony, before she was whisked off to continue her training. She owed the man a lot. More than he ever knew.

Yes, it would be good to see Malcolm Reed again.

* * *

"If I may say so, Captain, I find this highly irregular."

Reed and Hayes had been summoned to the Captain's Ready Room to be briefed more fully on the nature of the mission to Qo'nos. Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, the memory of the last time he and Hayes had been reprimanded in this very position occupying a corner of his mind. They'd come some way from bruised kidneys and detached retinas but Malcolm still felt compelled to keep a close eye on his former adversary.

"I have to agree with Lieutenant Reed, Sir. It could potentially make the working environment… difficult."

"Noted, Lieutenant, Major. However, the orders come from Starfleet Command, the mission has been in planning for months and we are in no position to question it. You are both professionals - past experience aside, he mumbled - and I expect you to behave as such. For the duration of the trip, you are to treat her no different than you would any other Ensign. She understands her position and expects nothing less."

Malcolm sighed. An Ambassador posing as a member of the crew? Working in his Armoury? God, as if life wasn't complicated enough…

"Captain—"

Archer stepped up to Reed and Hayes who stood to his left. "The matter is closed, gentlemen." He smiled then. "You've faced down the threat of Human extinction. I'm sure you can handle one little Ambassador…"

* * *

This wasn't going to be easy, thought Malcolm, as the senior staff headed to the Observation Lounge to greet the new crew members. However, orders were orders and if there was one thing Reed excelled at, it was respecting the chain of command. This mission was of the utmost importance, he didn't need that point reinforced. Qo'nos could be an incredible ally and would almost certainly give the Romulans pause for thought should they decide to take up where the Xindi left off…

"At ease…"

Malcolm was still lost in his own thoughts when the Captain's words penetrated the fog in his mind. It took him a moment to register the five crewmen standing in relaxed stance in front of them.

He glanced briefly at each before his eyes came to rest on a familiar but long since matured face… The wiry frame not unlike his, unmistakable shock of short-cropped, flame-red hair and bright green eyes with a glint in them so bright it would have put a binary star to shame. It had been eight years since he'd laid eyes on Meara Shaw, someone he'd considered his closest friend in Starfleet Academy, and more if she'd given any indication that she had been remotely interested.

Hayes was watching the series of expressions wash over Reed's face with abject fascination. "Something wrong, Sir? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Reed shook himself out of his reverie and composed his features. "Something like that, Major."

"…..so though you know you are the cream of Starfleet in order to have been chosen to serve aboard Enterprise, we expect it not to go to your heads," Archer concluded, with that trademark playful smile he used to charm all his crew.

"You've already met my first officer, Sub-Commander T'Pol," who gave a slight nod in acknowledgement to the new arrivals. "Crewmen Johnson and Richards, and Ensign Faulkner? This is my Chief Engineer and the man who will be bossing you around from now on, Commander Charles Tucker."

"Trip to ma friends but Sir to yawl," he said with just a hint of humour.

Looking at Reed, Archer continued, "Ensign Shaw and Crewman Marsh are part of the security staff and will be serving under Lieutenant Malcolm Reed."

Shaw immediately stepped forward and extended her hand. Her face expressionless, aside from that sparkle in her eye that Malcolm had never forgotten. "Lieutenant Reed. It's a pleasure to see you again. It's been too long."

Archer raised an eyebrow. T'Pol's expression a mirror of his own.

Reed noticed Tucker's mouth begin to flap open and say something to embarrass him no doubt.

"Ensign Shaw. Indeed. It's been a while. Serving Starfleet has obviously agreed with you. Crewman Marsh. Welcome aboard." Reed stepped back. "If you would both report to the Armoury at 0700 in the morning, we can assign you your duties. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some duties of my own to attend before the next shift. See you both in the morning."

Malcolm turned on his heel to exit the Lounge and glanced back to see Hayes introducing himself and Archer and T'Pol making small talk with the new Engineering crew. He didn't miss the knowing look on Tucker's face. Damn the man. He'd dig until he hit gold. Malcolm had always made a point of keeping a cool and professional distance from his colleagues. His role demanded nothing less than that. It was too easy to lose himself. He'd learned that the hard way. He saw every life on board Enterprise as his personal responsibility, no one no more or less important than the other. And now this. Of all the ships in all the Sol system… Damn. He'd imagined it wasn't going to be easy. He'd had no idea.

* * *

"You two know each other? Hotdamn, Malcolm, every time I think we're gettin' to the bottom of the mystery that is our Armoury Officer, another layer jus' gets peeled back!"

True to Trip form, after the meet and greet, he had followed the slightly perturbed Lieutenant to his quarters to grill him about his former life and where Meara Shaw fit into the picture.

"Well obviously I knew her long before her sojourn into diplomacy. We were cadets. I was — like a big brother to her I suppose, she being two years behind me."

"So how'd ya end up being pals? It's rare that senior cadets would collude with their younger counterparts…"

"I…. rescued her from a tricky situation. Outside one of the lesser known haunts of Starfleet personnel."

"Ha! Malcolm Reed. Born protector…"

"Actually, it turned out she was more than capable of looking out for herself. When a couple more thugs - for want of a better word - crawled out of the shadows, she actually came to my rescue. The rest, as they say, is history."

Trip was sitting on his bed, waiting for more, but Malcolm wasn't really in the mood. "Well, if you don't mind, Commander, I have some reports to finish on the repairs for Captain Archer."

Trip knew when the exceedingly British tone surfaced, he wouldn't get any more out of Malcolm. He drained his glass and stood up. "Just so ya know, Malcolm, this conversation ain't over," he stated with a smirk.

Yes. Malcolm knew that look. As if he didn't have enough to occupy his mind with the the largely unknown Klingon-shaped element looming on his horizon…

* * *

Hayes had planned on getting a headstart on the rest of the Armoury personnel. And on a more personal level, he loved being in the Armoury working away, before Malcolm arrived. He knew it grated him and Hayes enjoyed stoking that fire occasionally, just to keep the Lieutenant on his toes. Edgy, yeah. That's the way a Head of Security should be.

He entered the Mess at 0520 expecting to find it deserted. Much to his surprise, Ensign Shaw was sitting with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, seemingly glued to a PADD. Hayes went to the drinks dispenser and watched her thoughtfully. She looked fragile on the surface, though when he spoke to her yesterday, he could sense a latent strength beneath that practically seared his skin. And since then, he'd read her file and well…. astounding didn't come close.

"Coffee. Black." If she noticed his presence, she didn't acknowledge it.

He'd also been rather curious about Reed's reaction, and the surprise knowledge that they had been acquainted in a previous life. This piqued Hayes' curiosity. He'd been trying to penetrate that steely British reserve for months. Well, maybe he'd get some insights from Shaw, something he could use to rattle that cage.

"May I join you, Ensign?" Shaw looked up, a picture of intense concentration. She seemed to have to mentally shake herself to respond. She stood up in deference to rank.

"Major! Of course. Please. My apologies I was a little absorbed in my reading."

Hayes glanced down at the PADD. "You're reading… Klingon?"

She flashed him a rather disarming smile. Hayes wasn't sure anyone - man, woman or alien - had any right to look that good so early in the morning.

"Hoshi was kind enough to give me some pointers. I've read all the available material but there's no substitute for firsthand experience."

"I couldn't agree more. Ensign." They both sat, sipping their drinks in silence for a few moments.

"So. Ensign." Shaw looked at Hayes over the rim of her cup. "You know, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep calling you that, knowing what I know."

"On the contrary Major, you are doing an excellent job. And I plan to make it as easy as possible for you and Lieutenant Reed to adjust to my presence. In fact, I'm pretty good at blending into the scenery. Most of the time, you won't even know I'm in the Armoury."

Hayes smiled. "I guess you don't become an incredible diplomat without possessing certain skills. And you, Ensign, seem to possess a helluva lot of skills…."

So for the next hour, Hayes and Shaw talked about some of her adventures in combat training, trading stories and some of their more hair-raising missions. Hayes hadn't felt so comfortable talking to another human being for a long time.

* * *

Laughter in the Mess? At 0620. Malcolm stood outside the door for a moment to assess this unusual situation. He froze. Recognising Hayes' voice, mingling with that of Meara Shaw.

Damn. What on earth could they be laughing about? No… Not him, surely? Calm down, Malcolm. Stop being so bloody paranoid. He braced himself and pressed the entry button.

"Tea. Hot." Hayes and Ambassador - No Malcolm, Ensign - Shaw were still chuckling about something by the time he made his way over to their table. "A little early for levity, isn't it?"

They finally noticed Reed's presence and both stood. In unison they said, "Good morning, Sir."

"Please, don't stand on my account. We're not on duty just yet." He took a seat opposite Hayes. "Care to share the source of your mirth?" he enquired nonchalantly. Well, as nonchalantly as he could manage.

Hayes spoke. "The, err, Ensign and I were just sharing war stories about combat training. Turns out she's met a few MACOs that are actually mutual acquaintances. We were just comparing notes."

Reed noticed Hayes was practically glowing as he exchanged glances over his coffee cup with Ensign Shaw. Reed looked at her. That ever-present glint, infuriating in its attractiveness, held his gaze.

Reed cleared his throat before bringing his own cup to his lips. "I see. As long as she's not sharing any Academy tales? Those files are classified. Right, Ensign Shaw?"

"Oh absolutely, Sir. Couldn't have crewmates getting hold of such sensitive information. I'd hate to be the cause of an increased flow of traffic to Sickbay." Her words, however, were offset by the slight smile on her lips and the glance she threw Hayes.

"Glad to hear it, Ensign. See you both in the Armoury in 30 minutes." He rose and Hayes and Shaw followed suit. "No dawdling." He threw the comment over his shoulder as he strode with as much bluster as he could muster out the door.

"Well, I'd better get going. Wouldn't want to be late on my first day," Shaw stated as she drained her cup and grabbed her PADD.

She leaned down and in a low conspiratorial tone, whispered to Hayes. "I reckon you are more than up to being on the receiving end of a few bruises from our Head of Security, Major. What do you say you join me for a drink after our shift and I divulge some dirt from those classified Academy files?"

Hayes' grin would have had Phlox testing him for Denobulan DNA. "It would be my pleasure, Ensign Shaw."

With a quick nod and a wink, she departed.

* * *

It was plain as day. Well, plain as day to anyone who had eyes to see and who knew the good Lieutenant as well as Meara Shaw did.

At the end of her first day learning the ropes in the Armoury and getting to grips with the ship's weaponry, the MACOs and some of the crew had converged on the gym for some extra-curricular training. Reed and Hayes were exchanging blows and parries amongst the other pairings. Meara was watching them from the corner of her eye while she let Sato practice some offensive moves on her. Her REAL training session would take place in the mornings with Malcolm and Hayes. She smiled. She was looking forward to wiping the floor with both of them. Hopefully, a woman kicking their backsides would cause a move of solidarity between the two men.

The tension in the air between Reed and Hayes hadn't been lost on her at their introductions. Something similar had surfaced between her and Malcolm all those years ago when their paths converged. It was the night after she had met Dr Soong and the truth of what she was had been laid in front of her in all its glory. Meara was pretty sure it was a mistake. She just wanted to be a regular human being and so, in an effort to do that, she had gotten ridiculously drunk at some little known dive (and it took a hell of a lot for an Augment to get the beer buzz she craved that night). She had proceeded to embarrass a particularly distasteful excuse for a man in the bar, by basically drinking him under the table. His brothers were none to impressed and she should have guessed they wouldn't let the sleeping dog lie so decided to poke her as she headed down the street back to her quarters. Her reaction time was a little sluggish at first and by the time she had pulled herself together, the wiry British cadet had appeared, giving as good as he got, and he took a fair bit on her behalf that night.

She watched as the two men revelled in their sparring. Hell, it looked more like a dance. Meara wondered if any of the other members of the crew could sense it, but at the moment everyone was focussed on their own combatants…

After Meara had finished what the thugs had started, she escorted a hobbling Malcolm Reed back to her quarters, cleaned him up and gave him her bed for the night. As with the night before, the cold light of the next morning was a revelation for Malcolm as he recalled what had happened. He was a little in awe of the young cadet. Though shy and awkward at first, she could see something in him that she wanted to draw out and that's exactly what she did. A friendship was forged, and though she knew Malcolm wanted more, now that she understood and accepted the path that fate seemed to determine to march her down, she couldn't do that to him. She didn't hesitate however, to give him the confidence he needed to seek out relationships on his own terms. In some ways, he was more broken than her. He gave her perspective and an understanding in the fragility of being human that she only gained through her friendship with him.

Yes, there were advantages to having Augment attributes. Multi-tasking was as easy as breathing for a start. She could keep her mind on the mission and still have room on the side to help out an old friend. And that's exactly what she planned to do for Malcolm.

* * *

Hayes was mesmerised.

At 0900, he had arrived at the gym to find Shaw and Hayes already warmed up and just about to go a second round laying into each other.

Malcolm dropped his guard when he saw Hayes step through the door. "Well. How good of you to join us, Maj—!"

Hayes grinned. Malcolm's sentence had been cut short by an extraordinary combat move from Shaw, that had him with his face planted in the mat and in an armlock that he hadn't a hope in hell of escaping from unless Shaw allowed it.

"There's a time to drop your guard, Lieutenant. Standing in front of me when I'm itching to kick some arse isn't it."

"Nice to see you haven't lost either your touch or your quick wit, Ensign," Malcolm replied. Meara smiled and released him. She'd always found this was the way to begin breaking down Malcolm's guard. He was a fighter, a defender, a protector of those he perceived vulnerable. It had taken Meara a lot of time and effort to show him that it was his vulnerability that made him strong for others. An extended time in space, the loss of crewmates and a battle for their very survival, it would seem had undone all her good work. Well, it was nearly two weeks until Enterprise reached Klingon territory, and she'd have a damn good shot at waking up that sleeping beauty.

Meara looked over at Hayes and greeting him with a nod. She hadn't missed his appraising look as she squared up to Reed. He obviously had a type - slender, wiry and coiled with a concealed strength - was it, seemingly. There were many possibilities here to make two people very happy. There would be time to bridge the gap. First of all though, she was going to demonstrate to the both of them exactly why she had been chosen for this mission…

* * *

"Holy shit! That was—" Hayes' head was still spinning from the workout Shaw had just laid on them both. They were both walking the corridor en route to their respective quarters.

"Indeed." Reed was dripping with sweat. Meara had stretched muscles both men apparently had forgotten they had. Malcolm's body felt as though it had been pommelled in a way he imagined it might feel had a Sumo Masseur applied himself rigorously to the task. Even his bones felt stretched. If that were possible.

Neither man was about to admit that they'd both been turned on by the session in ways that extended beyond their physical exertions with Shaw. Thank the stars for loose pants and a semblance of self-control, thought Malcolm.

Hayes was rapidly losing his self-control, however. "See you in the Armoury, Sir", Hayes tossed out as they parted at a juncture. "Right you are, Major," responded Reed. God, I need a shower, Hayes thought. A really, really cold shower.

* * *

It was 1900. Having missed their appointed rendezvous the previous evening because a strategy meeting with his team had gone on longer than planned, Hayes was looking forward to his drink with "Ensign" Shaw. Also an entire shift wrestling mentally with Malcolm Reed had left him on edge and slightly drained. He was looking forward to relaxing for an hour or two.

He was standing outside her door with a bottle from his modest stash when he noticed her strolling down the corridor towards him in loose pants and shirt, looking incredibly relaxed - and damn hot if he was being honest with himself. He tamped that thought down remembering who exactly she was and what she represented to this mission. He first and foremost respected her, of course. But he could still harbour admiration - physical and intellectual - for the person without acting like a horny teenager.

"Major Hayes. Good to see you."

"You look like you've just spent 24 hours on Risa, Ensign Shaw. What gives?"

She laughed. "Well I'm glad my outward appearance is reflective of the inner calm. Sub-Commander T'Pol kindly accepted my request to participate with her daily meditation. I miss sharing the experience as I did while on Vulcan."

She keyed in her code and they entered her quarters.

Hayes nodded. "Of course. Vulcan. To be honest, I don't know a lot about them. The Sub-Commander is my first contact in that respect and she's not exactly easy to read."

"You couldn't be more right there, Major. There are more expressive glaciers than some Vulcans, though T'Pol is extremely expressive. Like my time on Vulcan, her time with Humans has made quite an impression."

She sat cross-legged on the bed. "So are you just gonna stand there all evening modelling that fine looking bottle or are you actually gonna grab a couple of glasses from over there and pour us a drink?"

Hayes obliged. He wondered what kind of energy the woman exuded that he felt so comfortable in her presence. He knew what she was capable of. Her file - or at least the part of it he had access to - would have had most normal folk quaking in fear. But then, Hayes could hardly be considered as a man existing within the realm of normal. He was good with that. Apparently, Meara Shaw was as well.

She took the glass from Hayes outstretched hand with a smile and settled back on her pillow. Raising the glass to her lips she swirled the contents and inhaled. "Now. I believe there is the subject of a person of mutual interest that we were going to address…"

Hayes raised his glass, smiling warmly. For sure, amongst many other things, he could see that Meara Shaw had a talent for breaking down barriers and repairing damaged goods. Maybe he'd learn something about himself as well as Malcolm through this burgeoning friendship. 

* * *

Malcolm's shift had ended. Two days had passed and having recovered from the initial surprise of Meara Shaw's re-entry into his life, he thought it was about time to hopefully pick up where they left off. She had been nothing but professional in the Armoury and during training. Malcolm had appreciated her giving him the space he needed to adjust to her presence. It made him realise how important she had been to him in the past, revisiting those memories of their time in the Academy had warmed him. He strolled towards her quarters and paused to take a breath before reaching for the chime on her door.

* * *

Voices? There was someone already here. His hand hovered as he listened in an effort to recognise the visitor. Hayes? HAYES?!

Malcolm dropped his hand to his side, clenching his fist, trying to calm his rising anger. Damn, if the man wasn't trying to undermine his authority, he was trying to muscle in on his friends. Bloody shameless! Malcolm contemplated overriding the access code in the hopes of finding them in a compromising situation and justifiably tear them both a new one…

He thought better of it. He'd save his rage for a sparring session with Hayes. He'd tear him a new one then.


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up in a tangled mess of sheets, pillows and Major Matthew Hayes. They had talked long into the night and fallen asleep fully clothed on her bed, though Hayes had at some point managed to remove his boots and socks.

She checked the time. It was two hours until their training session and shift started but Meara had a breakfast appointment in the Captain's Mess beforehand, standard procedure for all new additions to the Enterprise crew. Meara smiled. The man's status was truly destined for legendary. He inspired such loyalty. Of course on this mission it was a bonus that he had a grudging Klingon acquaintance and T'Pol had some tentative underground contacts in the Empire. Little things that added up to make the big picture complete.

Meara extracted herself from Hayes' strong arms and sat up. He groaned, stirred and cracked open an eye. "Damn. Sorry. I had no right to fall asleep in your quarters…"

"Think nothing of it, Major. You don't snore so somehow I soldiered on." She flashed him her trademark smile and rose to head for the shower.

He groaned again. "Seriously though. No one has a right to look as good as that first thing in the morning…"

"One of the perks of being what I am, Major." She retorted as she switched on the shower.

He slipped on his socks and boots. "I think off duty we can drop the Major. Ambassador."

She poked her head out the washroom door. "Deal."

He headed for the door. "See you at 0900 for our session."

"You got it!" She called over the sound of shower spray.

* * *

"I must admit, Captain, I do find her style of diplomacy rather unorthodox, though I do appreciate her path to diplomacy was in itself…unusual."

It had been three days since the new crew members had come aboard. Repairs were complete, everyone was settled back on the ship. Enterprise was ready to begin its mission to Qo'nos.

As usual, Archer and T'Pol had convened in the Captain's Mess ahead of the arrival of Reed and Shaw to gain some insights from each other regarding the new crew additions.

Archer smiled. The working relationship that had grown into grudging trust and respect had eventually morphed into friendship; a friendship that had hit some strained patches but this Human-Vulcan Axis was too valuable and too strong to permit a few uncertain moments in their tumultuous history to define it. "Well, after your tenure on Enterprise, T'Pol, I think even you would agree that the unorthodox approach has stood us in good stead."

"I will concede that, yes." Archer thought he'd won a point. "To a degree," T'Pol concluded.

Oh well, thought Archer. Maybe next time.

The chime sounded. "Enter!"

"Good morning, Malcolm." "Captain, Sub-Commander."

"You alright, Lieutenant? You look a little worse for wear." "Oh I'm fine, Captain," replied Malcolm, though the dark circles under his eyes told Archer a different story. "Just not had a very good night's sleep, thinking about the mission, you know…"

The chime again, before the door slid open to reveal a perky looking Ensign Shaw. The three crew turned to greet her as Meara felt Malcolm stiffen before relaying a curt morning greeting.

They sat around the table eating breakfast as Meara conveyed some personal information about her time in Starfleet pre-diplomatic corps. Before their time was up, they had exchanged their thoughts and experiences on the Klingons. Meara had been involved in the exchanges between the Admiralty and Kolos so was fully appraised of the ramifications - good and bad - and the importance of the success of the mission, however tentative the start of those relations were.

Throughout Malcolm was the modicum of cool professionalism and when Archer tried to broach the subject of their history, Meara knowing how private a person he was, deferred to Malcolm who noncommittally told him it was so long ago, he barely remembered how they met.

Meara remained silent doing her best impression of Vulcan composure. But something was wrong. Malcolm was cool at all times on duty, but this morning he was positively glacial.

* * *

Having taken their leave of the Captain and his First Officer, Shaw and Reed headed for the Armoury in relative silence to check up on things before their training session.

Malcolm was the first to break the quiet. Giving her a sideways glance, he asked, "Sleep well, Ensign?"

Ah. So that was it. Meara thought her supersensitive ears had picked up movement outside her door after Hayes stopped by though she wasn't sure if it had just been a passing member of the crew. So it was Malcolm. And Malcolm being Malcolm had thought the absolute worst of the situation, put two and two together and arrived at twenty-two. Well, Meara knew how to handle this side of her old friend. Uncork the bottle and release the demon before it did any more damage to the darkening thought processes of Malcolm Reed.

"Why now that you mention it, yes I did, Lieutenant. Major Hayes stopped by. We shared half a bottle of scotch, talked into the wee hours and fell asleep wrapped in each others arms…."

Meara had continued walking but noticed Malcolm had stopped dead in his tracks a few paces behind her.

"Something the matter, Lieutenant?" She enquired as innocently as a child might question why the sky is blue. His fair complexion was growing more crimson by the second.

He strode up to her. "I ought to put you on report for conduct unbecoming—"

"Please. Feel free, Lieutenant. And not that it's any of your business but nothing happened. I simply find Major Hayes' company a welcome departure from the stuffy, uptight Starfleet types. It's nothing more mysterious than that."

Malcolm was doing his best not to grit his teeth. He knew it was none of his business. That didn't mean he had to like it.

He brushed past her. "I'll be in the gym."

"What about checking on the Armoury?" she called after him.

"They have their orders and know what they're doing!" Unlike some not a million light years away, he muttered.

And there it was. Meara smiled inwardly as she headed towards the Armoury. The next step was to help Malcolm see that it wasn't Hayes he was jealous of for spending time with Meara, but jealous of her and the extra-curricular time she was spending with Hayes.

Humanity can travel light years in the space of minutes. Still they have trouble drawing a straight line from Feeling A to Action B when it comes to figuring things out within themselves. Universe, you are seriously messed up…

* * *

It was an intense training session. Malcolm using the physical exertion to relieve the stress of an overactive imagination picturing scenes of intimacy between Hayes and Meara, Hayes revelling in what on the surface appeared to be an invigorated and invigorating Armoury Officer. After thirty minutes of alternating one-on-one hand-to-hand combat, Meara decided to change tact.

She took a sip from her water bottle. "OK. I'm a Klingon. I've just boarded Enterprise with the intention of taking out as many of you sub-species Humans as I can. It's a one way trip. I'm going to die with honour, in the heat of battle. Question is, what are you two going to do about it?"

The gauntlet thrown down, with nothing more than a brief glance at each other, both men began circling her. Meara noticed the glint in Malcolm's eyes, subconsciously registering she had given him permission to let loose on her. Good, she thought. Time to push off the mask of impeccable British demeanour and let the real Malcolm Reed stand up. Meara was fast and strong and fought on instinct, just like a Klingon. Hayes and Reed were much more tactical. She was relying on this quality to allow them to work together to subdue her. She wasn't disappointed.

She felt the air shift behind her as Hayes moved to force her into a headlock. She allowed the move, bracing her body to drive her bodyweight back and under Hayes, manoeuvring so that he ended up backflipping over her head. He landed in a body roll and was hauled up by Reed who used the momentum generated from the move to propel his body forward into a lunge at their just recovered "Klingon" intruder. Meara was knocked to the floor and momentarily winded, giving Hayes enough time to join Malcolm in a pinning hold that even she couldn't escape from. Meara smiled.

"Well I must say that was just beautiful, gentlemen. You two work well together…"

Hayes felt a slight blush creep into his cheeks as he glanced at Malcolm. He'd always thought Reed and him could work well together, if Reed hadn't insisted on being such an ass so much of the time. Malcolm was too busy feeling pleased with himself to notice anything but Meara's praise.

"Thank you, Ensign." He said, releasing her and extending his hand to help her up. He was feeling considerably more relaxed. So much so, as the three of them departed to hit the showers, he asked, "I don't suppose you'd care to join me for dinner in the Mess this evening?"

Well, it was about time. "Of course, Lieutenant. I think that's a grand idea. I believe the last time we shared a meal after my graduation ceremony, we locked horns over the merits of British Colonisation vs Irish Fraternisation. Care to pick that one up again?"

Malcolm smiled for the first time in days. "I think I'm up for that…"

* * *

By the end of their the sixth day of the journey to Qo'nos, things had gotten considerably more amicable. Even various crew members were noticing a marginally more relaxed Head of Security, despite the nature of the territory they were speeding towards. While it was a diplomatic mission, it was still Klingon space. Reed's confidence was rubbing off on the rest of his staff. The tactical team had been running multiple simulations for encounters with Klingon vessels and Meara had been spending more time with Hayes putting the MACOs through their paces in hand-to-hand combat. Needless to say, the MACOs were developing a newly-acquired appreciation of stealth, speed and using gravity to your advantage, over strength and brute force. Ensign Shaw's merits in combat soon became the talk of the ship.

For himself, Hayes was developing a real appreciation of Meara's positive effect on Malcolm. She really had a way of smoothing out the edges. On occasion when they lunched or dined together, Hayes was treated to glimpses of what he believed was the real deal, as Meara exerted her considerable charms to bring the beating heart of Malcolm to the surface of his steely British armour. Once or twice, he'd even laughed, a deep, soulful laugh that shook his whole body. Hayes had been so caught off guard by the sound, he nearly choked on his food. On further reflection, as he replayed the evening in his mind lying in bed that night, he realised that he liked that sound very much.

* * *

 

Later the next day, they were standing at a terminal in the Armoury reviewing data on the sensor arrays. Meara chuckled to herself. "Something amusing, Ensign? Do share…"

"Sorry Sir. Meant to tell you that Commander Tucker "accompanied" me on the walk back here after lunch. He was - um - rather curious about our connection."

Malcolm sighed in exasperation. "I was wondering how long it would take. I've managed to dodge his nosiness since the day we left space dock, but the man is like a dog with a bone. Honestly, if there was a fence in Engineering, he'd spend all day propped up against it gossiping like an old washerwoman."

Meara guffawed at the image Malcolm's description conjured up. Damn, when he was himself he was such a joy to be around…"So. What did you tell him or do I want to know?"

She looked at him as he continued punching in the numbers. "I told him that our relationship was need to know and he didn't need to know."

"Ha! That response must have earned you an incredulous Southern stare!"

"Actually—" Meara felt it before she heard or saw it. A change in the energy levels emanating from the console on the platform where they were working. Everything seemed to phase into slow motion. Lunging for Malcolm who was standing closest to the platform steps, she grabbed him around the waist before pushing off in a rolling motion. While they hurdled towards the deck plating, an energy surge raced across their console and a small explosion burst outwards, scattering monitor shards in the direction they had just been standing. Almost simultaneously, Meara's body hit the deck full force with Reed on top of her. Malcolm was so stunned, he took a few seconds to register what had just happened. He looked down at the dazed expression of the Ensign. "So tell me," she panted breathlessly, "is it always this exciting working on a Starship?" Then she passed out.

* * *

Phlox had released her from Sickbay with simple instructions to rest for the remainder of the day. A minor concussion was nothing to worry about and given her Augment physiology and healing propensity, he didn't see any problem with sending her to her quarters. Reed accompanied her.

"That was a foolish move, Meara."

"You mean saving your backside from several days in Sickbay? You're welcome, Lieutenant. I was just protecting the most important assets of the ship, as would any member of your security team."

He stopped and grabbed her arm. "You ARE the most important asset on this ship. Ensign," he said under his breath. "This mission fails if we fail you, you know."

Meara rolled her eyes. "Malcolm. You just have to trust that sometimes I can make a split second decision and effectively judge the relative outcome of that decision in the time it takes you to snap your fingers."

He dropped his eyes. "I know. I suppose I just like to think you need me as much as—" She smiled at his hesitation. "I do, Malcolm. Our friendship may have been put on hold for a while, but I never forgot the dimension that grew in me that I can only credit to the presence of you in my life, when I needed a friend most. Thank you…"

They had reached her quarters. She turned to him, leaned in and applied a gentle kiss. No heat. A kiss that sealed a friendship both would always treasure. At that moment, Hayes rounded the corner.

He stuttered. "Sorry. I— I didn't mean to interrupt…" Flushing slightly, he stumbled on. "I heard what happened and just came to see how you were and- and if you needed anything..." Meara saw the cloud descend in Malcolm's eyes and immediately dived in before his Size 11s could take up residency in his big British gob.

"Not at all, Major. Thanks for taking the time to check on me." She opened the door to her quarters. "I'll tell you both what I need." They looked at her expectantly. "I'm going to sleep for a few hours. We are only six days away from Qo'nos and I need to exercise my liver before having to down that God-awful Blood Wine the Klingons are so fond of."

Hayes and Reed exchanged a glance. "Be here at 2000h and bring a bottle of something an Ambassador would find palatable." She was standing inside the door. Just before she closed it, she said smiling, "And if I don't like it, I won't be diplomatic about it so make sure it's good."

* * *

Malcolm arrived at her quarters a little earlier than planned. For once he wanted to be ahead of Hayes. The man seemed to be everywhere he looked these days and he couldn't seem to shake him off. Though if he was being honest, he should be partly blaming Meara for that. She seemed to be actively encouraging his presence. For the life of him, he couldn't think why. He had imparted her with having better taste in company…

Before he'd even hit the chime, her lyrical tone sounded through the door. "Come in, Malcolm!"

She was sitting on the floor in meditative pose. "I'm sorry…" he began. "No worries, Mal," she said, rising in one move. "I was just finishing up anyway."

She gave him a little smile and a tilt of the head. "Wanting to get the jump on the Major?"

"Good grief," he muttered, placing the bottle of Scotch on her desk, "am I really that obvious?"

She gave him a hug as she chuckled. "Only to me, old friend, only to me." She stepped back and gave him a serious appraising look. "What is it with you two anyway?" She folded her arms waiting for an answer. She knew what it was but she needed to hear how Malcolm interpreted their relationship.

He looked her dead in the eye. "I don't trust him."

Her expression just about summed up what she thought of that statement. Malcolm could have fit a football into her mouth and still there'd be room for his foot.

"You have got to be joking. This is gonna be good. I can't wait to hear this." She looked at the chronometer. "We have twenty minutes before he gets here, so come on. Spill it."

"Speaking of Hayes, why DO you enjoy his company so much? He's little more than a military tool in an arsenal of more useful tools..."

"Well, Malcolm Reed, that just goes to show how little you know. Have you ever had a conversation with the man beyond military tactics and weaponry?"

Now that he thought about, no he hadn't. He met Meara's eye and he knew she knew she had him bang to rights. Damn her. "I've missed you so much," he said sarcastically, as he flopped down on her bed.

"Anyway, enough of the misdirection, Mal." She grabbed some tumblers from underneath her bed. "Like I said, out with it."

So sitting opposite each other on the bed, scotch in hand, for the next thirty minutes, he proceeded to brief her on the nature of their relationship since the MACOs arrival on board prior to the Xindi mission.

"Feel better for that?" she enquired. "Irritatingly, I do," he replied before swallowing a deep draft of his drink. "I'd forgotten how good it was to share with someone I trusted."

"Afraid I have to correct you there, Mr Reed. I'm someone you ALLOWED yourself to trust and I think it's about time you extended that courtesy to someone else who could be a most loyal and dedicated ally."

Malcolm sat up. "How can you say that after everything I've just told you?"

"Frankly, Mal, everything you've just told me sounds a lot like your overactive imagination giving its own imagination a run for its money…"

"Now listen here…" The chime sounded.

"Speaking of allies-in-arms…" Malcolm glared at her. "Come in, Major!"

Hayes' impressive bulk filled the door to her quarters as he stepped over the threshold and into the light of the cabin. He was dressed casually, and short of the sweats he normally wore in the gym when they were training or working out, Malcolm couldn't recall ever imagining, never mind seeing him, in this scenario. He looked relaxed… He looked good… Malcolm's breath caught in his throat at the direction of his thoughts.

Meara didn't bother to get off the bed. She was aiming to give the air as relaxed a quality as she could permeate it with in an effort to encourage Reed and Hayes to open up. "You're late, Major." Her motives for bringing them together were honourable. She needed them on the same page for this mission to be a success, though she knew the fringe benefits might pay off for both of them as well. If they allowed it.

The corner of his mouth slanted upwards. "Apologies. Ensign. "It wasn't my intention to slight the invitation, but I thought given that you and the Lieutenant haven't had much time to reacquaint yourselves, it was best to give you a little space to do just that."

Malcolm had actually thought Hayes incapable of such consideration. He wasn't about to give him any credit for that though. Old habits, he surmised. "How thoughtful, Major."

Hayes twitched but pretended to ignore the slight and continued as he approached the desk and placed his bottle gently down. "If I'm completely honest, I don't really know why you invited me along." Malcolm put his glass by the bed and stood up. "Well that makes two of us, Hayes…"

Meara gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh for pity's sake, Mal. Put it away, would you?"

Malcolm sat on the bed again and Hayes had never seen such a look. Enterprise's steely Head of Security looked positively chastised. Hayes went for it.

"Any chance you can remain on Enterprise, Ambassador? I think the sight of Lieutenant Reed sitting on the naughty step every so often would do my morale no end of good."

Malcolm stared at him like he had three heads. The storm in his eyes threatened to shoot lightning bolts that would reduce Hayes to a pile of ash at his feet. Hayes held his ground as Reed levelled up to him. "That kind of insubordination could earn you a sleepover in the brig. Major."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Sir, we aren't on duty…" "That doesn't mean you should take a night off from respecting your senior officer." "Respect, Lieutenant? I'm surprised the word is part of your vocabulary." Hayes was looking Reed in the eye. Well, thought Meara, time to step in. Because if the sparks get any bigger there was risk of fire starting in her quarters.

From the direction of the bed, Meara began laughing. "Well, gentlemen. I'd say this bonding session has gotten off to a magnificent start, wouldn't you?"

Both men tore their eyes from each other and gave her equally incredulous looks, repeating the words simultaneously that threw them both off guard. "BONDING SESSION?!"

* * *

Two hours and a bottle of scotch later, Matthew Hayes had tears in his eyes from the images being conjured up by Meara of Malcolm Reed, amongst them, one of him tied to the Head of the Academy's Department of Engineering's office chair in nothing but his graduation robes with a "Happy Birthday, Mr McNulty!" sign hanging around his neck. Malcolm was crimson with embarrassment but when Hayes began opening up and sharing tales from his past, he realised that maybe letting someone in wasn't so bad. Annoyingly, Meara was correct in her assertions about Hayes. Reed had been too busy mistrusting and disliking the man to look for anything remotely human past the military mask.

Once they got their mirth under control and the tales of humiliation out of the way, the topic of conversation moved onto more the personal.

"So how long did you both have a relationship?" Hayes enquired while staring at the bottom of his glass.

"Oh Mal and I have never been more than very good friends." She gave Malcolm a wide-eyed look and batted her eyelashes. "I'm really not his type," she cooed.

"I beg to differ, my dear, you bloody well are my type," he retorted heatedly.

"Now Mal we both know that is not true. You find me attractive and easy to be around, but you like the idea of loving someone like me. There's a difference."

"Well, my parents adored you…" Meara barked out a laugh. "Well frankly, that should have set off the warning klaxons straight away!"

Hayes chuckled again. He really should stop drinking and leave. Both Meara and Reed were starting to look even more attractive than he had previously afforded them in his more sober moments. He stood up. He was really starting to wish he'd had the time while on leave to take the edge off.

"Oh no you don't, Hayes! You stay right where you are."

"It's late, I really should go." Meara squinted at the chronometer. "It's only 2230. I expect someone of your stature to possess more stamina, Major," she said with a note of amusement in her voice.

"I've got plenty of stamina, I'll have you know," he teased back.

"Prove it and stay for another round then," she said, gesturing him to pass his tumbler. "Besides," she continued as she poured, "you still haven't graced Mal and I with a tale from your personal archive?"

"Not much to tell really… There's a reason us military types are cut they way we are." After this evening, Malcolm suspected nothing could be further from the truth and Hayes was being his usual evasive self.

"Don't horde, Hayes," he shot back at him. "If this…. bonding doodah is going to work, you're going to have to do better than that. And as far as I'm concerned, what's said in these quarters, stays in these quarters."

Meara was looking at him like she knew more than she was letting on, which of course she did. "Tell us about your family. That's a nice easy place to kick off."

He looked a little pained at the thought but began, "well my parents—" He started as Meara leaned forward and rested a hand on his knee. "Not that family, Matthew." Her voice had taken on a softness that could have hypnotised a snake. "Your other family…"

Hayes glanced up at her. She was smiling gently. Reed was looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time.

Hayes swallowed hard. "I— I— can't. It's too painful." He drained his glass in one gulp. "I really have to hit the sack."

He headed for the door and turned to look at them both as it opened before him. "Thanks for the hospitality, Ambassador. Despite my initial reservations, I had a good time." He looked at Reed, eyes shining. "See you both at the strategy meeting in the morning."

He stepped into the corridor and was gone.

Reed was gazing thoughtfully after him. "Care to let me in on what the blazes that little exchange was all about?"

"Seriously Malcolm? For such a bright lad, you can be insufferably dumb sometimes." Meara stared at the door. Of course, she had read up on the senior staff on Enterprise before accepting the mission. She needed to know she was being put in the best possible hands and the mission had the best possible chance of success.

"Hayes was married. He lost his husband and their daughter in the Xindi attack."

She heard his glass as it bounced off the deck. "Oh God. No."

He put his hand across his eyes and screwed them shut as he tugged his hair through his hand. "I really am an insufferable ass aren't I?"


	3. Chapter 3

For the next 48 hours, Malcolm had thrown himself into his work. He'd never run so many simulations in his life, never done as many Armoury systems checks. Some of the staff thought he was taking the definition of anal retentive to new dizzying, lung-crushing heights. Little did they know it was what he had to do to focus and keep his mind from straying back to the revelations that had come to light in Meara's quarters less than two days before. He spent enough time off-duty trying to process them, recalling previous altercations in which he and Hayes had engaged, trying to see if he had missed something that would have even hinted that Hayes had a family. Hayes had lost two people he loved. Hayes was—.

"—tenant?" He felt a finger poke his upper arm. "Comming Malcolm Reed. Anyone in there?"

Reed and Shaw were having a late lunch in a largely deserted Mess.

"What? Oh…Sorry."

"Where were you? It certainly didn't feel like you were on Enterprise."

"Just thinking…" Meara sighed. She really didn't like this side of Malcolm. If he were Catholic he'd have flogged himself to death by now with all the mental self-flagellation he lavishes on his brain. But then again, if not for these human frailties that seemed to permeate every cell of his tough little body, she wouldn't be half the Augment she was today.

"You weren't to know, Mal. He's hardly an open book. Perils of living, breathing and eating the military life as you DO well know. You also know, that you can't avoid Hayes forever. It's a big ship but it's not that big."

"I have not—". Meara gave him a LOOK.

"Save it, Mr Reed. You've gone out of your way not to be in the same room as him if there was a risk you'd end up alone together and actually have to engage with the man. You seem to forget I know what you're like. I've been there when you've broken hearts and had your own broken. Though you seem to have spent quite a few years steeling yours instead of stealing others. It's made you quite cold and pretty much retarded when it comes to connecting with people. Pity. You've got a lot to offer the right person." Reed gave her a frown. Trust her to be more blunt than the wrong end of a phase pistol.

She looked up as she slipped her food-laden fork into her mouth, and spotted Hayes as he entered the Mess. Malcolm's back was to the door, a measure of how preoccupied he truly was, given how paranoid he was about safety. One of his own rules was to ALWAYS have exits and entry points in your sights.

She stood clasping her hands behind her back as he approached their table.

"May I join you?" Hayes' voice jolted Malcolm back to the present.

Meara spoke. "Please."

Hayes sat. "You know, Lieutenant. A lot of people suffered losses in the Xindi Crisis." Straight to the point. Wonderful. Reed poked at his food. He couldn't meet his eyes. "You want to know how I got through it?"

Finally Malcolm tentatively accepted his gaze. "I got to do something about it. With the best Starfleet had to offer." Meara recognised the tiniest flicker of acceptance in Malcolm's eyes.

"Hayes…" Malcolm quietly croaked out his name. "I don't even know where to—"

"As luck would have it I do know where you can begin, Lieutenant. Dinner tonight, in your quarters."

Malcolm gaped at him. "We're going finish this. We're going to start again. We're going to watch all that water from the last year pass under that bridge, carrying all our shit with it. Agreed?"

Malcolm was so dumbfounded, he could barely manage a nod of agreement to Hayes' proposition.

Hayes stood. "I believe we have a senior staff briefing in thirty minutes. I'll see you there."

"Ensign. See you in Tactical later." "Absolutely, Major."

Meara was grinning like a fool when she sat down. She looked at Malcolm. Who apparently was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Almost there, thought Meara. She had tipped her hand at just the right time it seemed. Enterprise was four days from Klingon space. Time enough to get the two of them where she wanted them. With their eyes firmly on her back and on each other's.

Meara knew what the final briefing would entail, knowledge Starfleet Command had so far relayed only to Archer and his First Officer. She wasn't looking forward to Malcolm's reaction, knowing how protective he was. But this was the mission. And she was damn well going to give it her all…

* * *

Despite the presence of all the senior staff in the Command Centre, you could have heard a pin drop.

Archer took a deep, calming breath. "Well, there's a first. Silence from my officers."

"I think we're just havin' a little trouble processin' it all, Cap'n." Trip Tucker was nothing if not a master of understatement.

T'Pol - ever the voice of logic - weighed in. "Recent encounters with the Klingons have demonstrated to them that Humans are worth consideration for a possible alliance. While Klingons are not the most… enlightened species, both Human and Klingon encounters with the Romulans have given both peoples pause. Romulan technology and tactical expertise is superior, as we have witnessed firsthand. The only thing that surpasses these attributes is their unwavering belief in their supremacy over all other alien species - including Vulcans."

Malcolm was still reeling from the information that had just been laid before them. "Trial by combat?" He suddenly had a horrible image of Ambassador Meara Shaw lying at the feet of a Klingon Warrior holding her still beating heart above his head, screaming "Victory to the Empire!" Yes, Malcolm's imagination of the worst case scenario was nothing if not bloody and vivid. It's what made him good at what he did, though right now, the only thought he was having was how desperately he wanted to save Meara from what looked like an inevitable fate.

T'Pol continued. "It is a long-established Klingon ritual when engaging first contacts with whom they see the potential for the furthering of interplanetary relations, Lieutenant. And one we are forced to respect if we want to win the same from the Klingons." She glanced around at these people she had herself slowly come to respect over the years. Irrational and impulsive they may be, but Humans had achieved more in a century than Vulcans had in ten. She believed in their potential, even if they sometimes doubted it themselves.

"I'm not sure we're ready for this, Captain." For Hayes to make a statement like that was unheard of. Malcolm was wondering if the same thoughts were coursing through his mind regarding the safety of Meara.

"This is not the time for doubts, Major," Archer stated plainly. "The mission is what it is." He looked at each of his officers in turn, confidence lacing his words. "This crew has been through more in the last three years than the majority of the Human race would experience in a dozen lifetimes. We've watched crewmates die, but saved countless lives. We've come out the other side of every one of those experiences stronger and better. This is a new phase of Human evolution and we - Enterprise - has the privilege of being at the very beginning of that journey. Embrace and evolve or falter and die. I know which I'd rather do and I'm damn sure all of you are with me…"

Without hesitation in unison he heard what he needed to hear. "Yes Sir!"

Archer smiled. "Dismissed."

* * *

"I can't believe she didn't tell us. Trial by combat? With a Klingon? It's a suicide mission! Even for an Augment!" Malcolm was angry. Hayes was used to this side of Reed. "She was under orders, Sir. Need to know and all that. And knowing would almost certainly have altered our behaviour towards her." Malcolm sighed. He hated it when Hayes was right. Still, he wouldn't let it stop him from venting.

Hayes made a suggestion. "How about we go a few rounds in the gym? I don't think either of us want to see the Ambassador in our current state of disquiet."

Fair dues, thought Malcolm. He wondered if Hayes always knew how to read his mood but he had simply been too blind to acknowledge it. "You're on, Major."

As they made their way to the gym, Malcolm wondered. Aside from a few missteps on this mission, things had been going better than usual. He was getting too many second chances and he was trying not to convince himself that something was about to go horribly wrong.

* * *

Thirty minutes sparring with Hayes had done Reed the world of good.

Back in his quarters, showered and dressed, he checked the ship's computer to locate Shaw. He was slightly disappointed to find she was in T'Pol's quarters. Well, he had no intention of interrupting. What he had to say could wait. There was no doubt in his mind meditating did for their First Officer what intense physical exertion did for him, thinking back to the incident on board involving T'Pol and an alien parasite that resulted in her temporary pitch into emotional havoc. She and Meara were likely engaged in their own intense meditative session, building up the mental reserves she would need to face down a Klingon. In a combat arena. Surrounded by dozens of other Klingons, baying for blood... Stop it Malcolm, he chastised himself. He was winding himself up again and no good could come of it. This was the mission. So suck it up, Lieutenant. He steeled his mind and turned his attention to review the tactical scenarios he and Hayes had developed yesterday. He glanced at the chronometer. He had two hours before his guest arrived.

A small part of Malcolm had hoped Hayes had forgotten about inviting himself to dinner in his quarters. No such luck. As they had parted company outside the gym, Hayes said he would see him at 1930h. Malcolm gave a curt nod as he resigned himself to the inevitable. Concern mixed with anticipation of what the evening would uncover distracted his thoughts. Meara, as usual, had been correct. But it wasn't just the last few days that Malcolm had been dodging the possibility of finding himself alone with Hayes. Aside from strictly professional situations, he could count on one hand the number of times he and Hayes had been one-to-one and never in a social or personal situation. The first encounter of that nature had been tempered by the presence of his old friend, Hayes' new acquaintance and a good bottle of Scotch…

Malcolm sighed and turned his attention back to reviewing the data. Taking a moment, he closed his eyes and conjured up the image of Meara, telling him to stop over-thinking things, that attempting to apply tactical moves to the unpredictability of the human condition was a fool's errand. He let out a deep breath and smiled. Even when she wasn't a physical presence, Meara had felt like a constant in his life, a touchstone of memories upon which he could draw to ground his sometimes tumultuous emotional uncertainties.

Malcolm banished all expectations - good, bad and otherwise - of what was to come and absorbed himself in his work until the appointed time.

* * *

"Bloody Hell!" The sound of the chime brought him to groggy senses. At some point, he had retreated to his bed with a PADD and nodded off. He sought out the chronometer. 1930. Bloody fantastic. Hayes was at the door waiting entry and he hadn't even organised dinner. The chime beeped again.

"Lieutenant? Everything alright?"

"Yes yes, Major. Everything's fine. Well, sort of fine…" He made it over to the door to give him access. "Fine except for the fact that I fell—" As the door slipped open, to Reed's mild surprise he was greeted with a MACO in possession of a tray of dishes, the smell emanating from them reminding him he hadn't eaten since last night, a realisation further compounded by a low growl sounding from the depths of his hollow stomach.

He stood aside with his mouth half-open as Hayes entered with his bounty and deposited it on Reed's desk. "That sounded positively feral, Sir. Practising giving the Klingons something more to wonder about Humans?" He turned, smiling, and again, Malcolm felt a little off-kilter at being in the presence of an at-ease, casually-dressed John Matthew Hayes.

Reed folded his arms and gave him a defensive look, tossing his head towards the tray of food. He didn't need to ask. Hayes knew he was wondering how he knew about Reed's lack of preparation.

Hayes leaned against the desk, folding his arms in answer. "Oh, I went to the Mess and asked Chef if you had ordered food." Reed raised his eyebrows, dreading what kind of gossip such a query would fuel in the kitchens. Hayes noticed the look and continued, "I told him I'd given you a fair old pasting during our training session this afternoon and since feeling a little guilty about the thought of you lying in bed, writhing in pain, I'd better make some recompense and bring you some food…"

Hayes got exactly the response he expected. A redness creeping into Reed's cheek and the beginnings of a spluttered, how-dare-you threatening to evacuate his mouth with all the British exasperation he could muster. Before he did, however, Reed caught the glint in Hayes' eye and the playful smile, and he knew he was being had. He immediately backed down, relieved he found the decorum to get himself under control before making an idiot of himself. Again. Malcolm noted that Hayes had effectively managed to dispel any tension in the room before it threatened to take hold.

"Mmmm. Evidently, you've been spending far too much time with our good Ambassador and filing away hints and tips on how to wind up an Armoury Officer…"

He shrugged. "Something like that. Anyway, let's eat. I'm starved and apparently you are too, Sir." As another low growl escaped Malcolm.

* * *

As the evening wore on, both men were slowly realising how badly they had misjudged each other. After the most pressing and pertinent topic of the mission had been thoroughly broken down and analysed, further discussion revealed the common ground they had both chartered through their careers. Eventually, they arrived at the star in whose gravity field they both had become captured.

"I can honestly say I've never met anyone like her," Hayes said.

"And you never will again. She truly is one-of-a-kind. I consider myself damn privileged to count her as a friend." Malcolm paused, watching the pensive expression that had fallen on Hayes' face.

"Listen, Hayes. About the other night in Meara's quarters…" His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, surprised that Reed had guessed what he was thinking about. He made to stand up. "Wait. Just wait. Hear me out." Hayes slowly returned to his seat. "I'm not going to pry. I realise I'm a pain in the backside and precious about my privacy and I respect that need in others. I can't begin to imagine what it must be like - not only to suffer the loss, but the sacrifice you are making being here now. If anyone had a right to be harbouring Xenophobic thoughts and ill-will against alien lifeforms it would be you." He took a breath. Hayes was looking at him with an intensity that was making him uncomfortable but the precious time he had spent with Meara had allowed him to realise he was sick and tired of watching himself bury his head in the sand when faced with uncomfortable situations so he soldiered on. "I am… curious… interested… but I certainly won't force the issue. I know you'll speak of it when you're ready. If not to me, then I hope you can find someone with whom to share that burden…"

Hayes did stand up then and Malcolm wondered if he had gone too far. To be honest, he had surprised himself so had no idea what Hayes was making of the situation.

"Stand up, Sir." He stood. Hayes moved round the table and placed his hands on Malcolm's shoulders, stepping close. Malcolm felt heat envelop him like a warm blanket. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first contact either man had initiated with the other that didn't look like it was going to end up with one of them on their backs or with their face pinned to the floor in an armlock.

Hayes had a lump in his throat the size of a stun grenade as he spoke in a hushed voice.

"When I lost Joshua and Tara, it was the worst day of my life. I put all thoughts of ever being happy again out of my head and put my team forward for Enterprise's mission to find the Xindi. I hollowed out that piece of my heart that the people I cared most about in the world had occupied and reserved it for all the determined rage I felt towards the people who had caused the worst pain I ever knew in my life. When the mission was completed, that space became hollow again, but the pain had eased, just a little, but enough for me to know that it wouldn't always hurt so much. But not for one second did I ever think I might even have a hope in hell of finding love and filling that space again."

He raised his fingers to gently touch the side of Malcolm's neck, grazing the tips up along his jawline. For his own part, Malcolm was dimly aware of several things happening simultaneously as they stood like that for several heartbeats. As Hayes was speaking, a knot of sensation had formed at the base of his skull and unravelled, trickling down his spine like a waterfall and pooling in the pit of his stomach; then there was the almost certain knowledge that Matthew Hayes was giving serious consideration to kissing him; finally, the feeling that why that might be an unbearably pleasant experience, any escalation of said action would almost certainly be the undoing of Malcolm Reed.

Hayes was looking at him expectantly. Permission was being sought to continue. Despite weakening knees and the warp coil threatening to burst from the pit of his stomach, Malcolm took control of the situation. He would later marvel how the hell he had managed it.

"Major…" "Matthew."

"Very well. Matthew." He wrapped his fingers around the hand resting on the side of his neck. Reed whispered, "I want to tell you what's going to happen now. We are going to put this conversation, this moment, on hold. We are going to complete this mission. We are going to do whatever it takes to protect the Ambassador. Then we are going to take some shore leave and pick this up exactly where we left off…"

Hayes dropped his hand and took a small step back. Any concern that Malcolm might have felt that he had offended him dissipated when Matthew gave him a warm smile.

"Agreed, Sir." He picked up his pullover and made for the door. He stopped and stepped back into Malcolm's personal space and gave him a look that could have melted icecaps on Andoria. "Not only will I be taking you up on that offer, Malcolm, I promise I'll be showing you that there are more definitions of the abbreviation MACO than even your British vocabulary can comprehend." He tilted his head, enjoying the sight of a speechless Head of Security. He reached the door and turned to drink in Malcolm's expression. "And you know I'm a man of my word." Satisfied he'd given him plenty to think about, Hayes exited his quarters and was gone.

Somehow, Malcolm made it over to his bed. What had started out as a mission laced with frustration and mishaps was rapidly morphing into an experience of life-affirming turning points.

And at the heart of it all, the woman whom at one point in his life he had believed was his destiny, actually was, but never in a million light years could he have predicted how that destiny would have unfolded. The Universe's sense of irony was breathtaking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is a curious thing.
> 
> Those with more power in a relationship do not have to trust the other. They can do as they wish, acting cruelly or with kindness. Despite her value, Meara Shaw was about to discover that she did not have the power in the relationship that had formed the foundation of her professional life.
> 
> And it would change everything.

Elsewhere on Enterprise, events were unfolding in an entirely new direction…

Archer was relaxing. Porthos was curled up at his feet. After the pressures of the Xindi Crisis and the loss of respect of some of his crew given the measures to which he'd had to resort, it had taken him a while to find the man Jonathan thought he'd lost. The curious, eager wide-eyed explorer had been abandoned in favour of a man who it could be argued had momentarily lost his own Humanity. Ironic really. Having to lose yourself to save yourself. Thanks to T'Pol's patience and ministrations he had found his way back. He was even getting quite good at meditation, if he did think so himself. He smiled. Never in his lifetime would he have thought the benefits of a Vulcan First Officer serving on his ship could be so multi-dimensional. He couldn't imagine Enterprise without her. Well, if he was lucky enough to become Admiral when he finally hung up his space boots, he was damn well going to make sure Vulcan senior staff were part and parcel of the furniture on the bridge of every ship in Starfleet. He could imagine what Soval might say to that…

"Phlox to Captain Archer." He reached for the comm panel. "Archer here."

"If you're not busy Captain, I would appreciate your joining me in Sickbay? It's concerning Ensign Shaw. I'm afraid it's not good." Archer frowned. "I'll be right there, Phlox."

"Archer to T'Pol." Her smooth tone took a moment to respond. "Go ahead, Captain."

"Can you join me in Sickbay?" "Of course, Sir."

"Thanks, Archer out." What the hell could be wrong with the Ambassador? Archer had a sinking feeling in his gut. He hated that feeling as it was usually bang on the money.

When Archer entered Sickbay, T'Pol was already there, waiting. Also in the room, Phlox was standing beside a pale but impassive-looking Meara Shaw. The look of concern on Phlox's face was only adding to Archer's sinking feeling.

* * *

"What's the matter, Doctor?" he enquired as he fell in beside T'Pol, though looking at Meara as he spoke. "Are you alright, Ensign?" Out of necessary habit, Archer always deferred to her assumed rank in the public areas of the ship.

It took her a moment to gather herself to respond, her brain still reeling from the information Phlox had just imparted. "I think I'll let the Doctor explain, Captain." She stood up straight and looked him levelly in the eye. Despite her petite stature. "I want to state for the record first however, that I had no knowledge of the circumstances surrounding my selection for this mission other than what you and Sub-Commander T'Pol have already been made aware of."

Archer frowned as he absorbed her words. He'd been uncomfortable having an Augment on board Enterprise from the get-go, but he had a feeling those thoughts of disquiet were going to pale in comparison to what Phlox was about to reveal. He allowed his demeanour to mirror that of the ever-calming presence of T'Pol. He braced himself and took a deep breath.

"Phlox?" He was right about that sinking feeling.

* * *

"She's infected with a VIRUS?! Shouldn't she be in quarantine? Why didn't you detect it in your scans when the new crew members underwent their shipboard medical exam?"

"Don't think of it as an infection, Captain. Think of her more as- as a carrier of the virus. I assure you, Ensign Shaw poses no risk to the health and safety of the crew of Enterprise." Archer's shoulders relaxed slightly but Phlox recognised the pained expression of a man who would require a lot more convincing that his ship wasn't in immediate danger.

"The reason I didn't detect it was because it didn't show up on the normal scans." He turned to the monitor on his desk and motioned Archer and T'Pol over while Meara stood her ground and kept quiet. "Me being the intensely curious Denobulan that I am however, couldn't resist the opportunity to study our first natural Augment's biochemistry… And that's when I found this…"

Archer glanced at the monitor. "OK. You're going to have to spell it out for me, Phlox." T'Pol saw it immediately.

She gave Phlox a knowing look and turning her attention back to the monitor, whispered, "Fascinating." Archer sighed impatiently. "Well I suppose I should be relieved that you both find this - whatever this is -," he said, folding his arms across is chest, "so incredible, but I'd appreciate you sharing your insights with your Captain."

Phlox spoke almost in reverence of his discovery. "The Virus appears to be piggy-backing Ensign Shaw's white blood cells. While harmless to humans, it does however, present quite a danger to Klingons."

All three turned to look at Meara. She hadn't moved an inch. Phlox laid it on the line. "To put it in layman's terms, Captain, it would appear our Ensign Shaw is a bioweapon."

* * *

"Archer to Major Hayes." "Hayes here. Go ahead, Sir."

"I need you in Sickbay. On the double. Archer out."

The abruptness in Archer's tone spurred Hayes to his feet and he was out the door of his quarters before his bootlaces were tied.

Hayes entered Sickbay a few minutes later to see Archer, T'Pol and Phlox standing around a tense looking Meara Shaw. What the heck is going on?, he thought to himself. On approaching the group, Hayes caught the end of whatever Archer had been saying to Doctor Phlox. "Do what you can, Phlox. I'll contact Starfleet Command and get their take on what - if anything - can be done to salvage the situation. In the meantime…"

Archer had heard Hayes enter the room and turned his attention to the MACO.

"Major. Please escort Ensign Shaw to the Brig and place her under guard. I'll be along to question her shortly."

Hayes slack-jawed reaction coupled with his hesitation was not what Archer had been expecting. "Excuse me, Sir?"

Archer's expression made it clear to Hayes this was not the correct thing to say under the circumstances. "Now is not the time to be questioning my orders, Hayes." Meara's voice broke through his stunned reaction. "It's OK, Major." She walked towards him. "I'm going voluntarily until this - misunderstanding - is cleared up."

"Whether or not it is a misunderstanding remains to be seen, Ensign." Hesitantly, but gently Hayes took her arm. She was looking defiantly at Archer. "Remember Captain. The simplest answer is usually the right one. I believe I've been taken for a fool and Enterprise has been sent unknowingly along for the ride."

With a look of abject confusion marring his face, Hayes turned them both and left Sickbay with Meara. Well, she thought to herself, at least now she realised why Section 31 had been so willing to loan her to Starfleet for this mission. The bastards. She would just have to trust that this ship and her crew wouldn't let this opportunity slip through their fingers because of a small, narrow-minded section of Humanity.

As they headed for the Brig, Hayes mind was reeling. He didn't know where to begin, didn't know if he should, if he would be stepping over some invisible line that allowed him to remain the impartial soldier. He looked at her. She was staring straight ahead, lips set rigid in a thin determined line, not giving anything away. He decided to keep his unsettled thoughts in check. He'd know soon enough what was going on when Archer came to question Meara. It suddenly dawned on him why Archer had requested him - and not any of the ship's own security team - to take her into custody.

* * *

Malcolm. He didn't know what was transpiring and Archer didn't want him to. Not yet anyway.

Hayes stood outside the Brig, trying not to look at his prisoner. He wondered to himself how he could have so badly misjudged someone. They had hit it off almost immediately, discovered common ground. She'd even defied a fundamental law of the Universe and managed to bridge the gaping chasm that had for so long separated he and Malcolm. He was certain that chasm would have swallowed up the both of them had she not stepped into the breach and so masterfully taken control of the situation. He glanced at her again. Her eyes were closed, she was sitting still - looking completely centred and calm - in her favoured cross-legged position on the floor. Hayes sighed. Whatever this was, it was surely some giant mistake. He just had to trust the Captain. He'd never let his crew down. He wouldn't start now.

Two hours later, Archer appeared. Hayes met his eyes but couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was an emotional person a lot of the time but he could pull a poker face out of the bag when he wanted. "How's the Ensign?"

Hayes looked straight ahead. "She's been a model... prisoner, Captain."

"Capt-". Archer raised his hand and gave a small smile. Hayes took this as a good sign.

Archer turned his attention to Meara who had risen from her sitting position to stand at ease in the centre of the room. He hit the comm panel. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Meara spoke for the first time since they had left Sickbay. "It wasn't my place, Sir. And anything that you were to discover had to come from Starfleet Command."

Archer pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He hated being in the dark. How was he supposed to be an effective leader if he wasn't in possession of all the facts? "Well now I am in possession of the facts, Ensign. But before I release you I want to hear it from you."

So Meara told him. And Major Hayes got an earful the likes of which you couldn't make up if you were Arthur Conan Doyle... Her time in Section 31, gathering intel on Earth's new allies, the infiltration of the organisation by a Terra Prime operative and her discovery of said agent in their midst. Meara's abduction and torture, which evidently also involved the insertion of a virus engineered to harm the Klingons with the intention of starting a war that would unbalance any attempts at an alliance and undoubtedly throw relations with Vulcan and Andoria into disarray. Evidently, Terra Prime still had some hold in Section 31, but they'd have to address that matter after the mission.

"I trust you'll be discreet about this Major?" Archer said. "I'll be briefing the senior staff today."

"Of course, Sir." Hayes wouldn't know where to start if anyone asked him to put into words the story Meara had just shared.

"Phlox to Captain Archer." "You have some good news I hope, Doctor?" Phlox was the best at what he did and he didn't disappoint Archer this time either. "I think we have a solution, Captain, that ensures the well-being of the Ensign and the continuation of the mission... If you can send her along we can get started on the treatment. I understand time is of the essence." Archer gave a sigh of relief.

"As always, you're a lifesaver, Phlox." "Doing what I was born to do, Captain."

"Archer out." He turned again to Hayes. "Release our occupant and shut down power to the Brig, Major." "Yes Sir."

"I'm glad my misgivings were unfounded. Ambassador," using her real title for the first time since she arrived on board. "I'm not a fan of Section 31 but I have learned over time that I don't have to be a fan of everything that seems to make the Universe tick."

Meara gave him a smile. Archer realised that her place in this mission would indeed give it the best possible chance of success. "Chain of command can be a real ballbreaker sometimes, can't it Captain?"

"Never a truer word spoken in jest, Ensign. I'll check your progress after I've briefed the senior staff." "Very well, Sir."

"Care to accompany me to the Command Centre, Major?" "Of course, Captain." Hayes had visibly relaxed since Meara's revelations. She hoped she hadn't lost a friend. He gave her a curt nod, which Meara guessed for him, while on duty, was practically a hug.


	5. Chapter 5

A breathless Malcolm Reed arrived at Sickbay in record time after the Captain had dismissed them from their latest briefing. He'd been summoned to Archer's Ready Room beforehand and furnished with the highlights of the last 3 hours, while he was blissfully ignorant in his slumber. Initially, he'd been infuriated that Archer had kept him in the dark but realised shortly thereafter that Archer knew his Armoury Officer all too well. In hindsight, Malcolm's emotions were a little closer to the surface since Meara's joining the crew. Dammit. He'd have to keep an eye on that. If Archer could see it, he wasn't doing a very good job of keeping himself in check. He'd need time to process the latest revelations from the Book of Meara Shaw, but right now, his one and only thought was focussed like a laser beam on making sure she was OK.

Phlox was using a PADD to monitor the progress of the treatment. He looked up as the door slid open to permit entry of a flustered-looking Lieutenant. "Ah, hello Mr Reed. I take it you've come to check up on the Ensign."

Reed stopped short and composed himself. "Indeed, Doctor. I've just left the briefing and simply had to find out her status."

"Well, she is currently undergoing irradiation therapy to neutralise the virus."

Reed looked at the monitor attached to the chamber. "Exposure to radiation? Surely that will damage her cells, Doctor."

"Well considered, Lieutenant!" smiling at him fondly like he would a student who had just passed a test. "However, in the case of Ensign Shaw, her capacity for self-regeneration is truly breathtaking. Her cells are more than capable of recovering from moderate level exposure while ensuring her little white blood cell passengers are no more."

Malcolm looked at the sleeping form of his friend lying in the chamber. "I'll have to defer to your judgement on the matter, Doctor." He furrowed his brow. "How much longer will the treatment take?"

"I shall be checking for signs of the eradication of the virus every twenty minutes. I will not be keeping the Ensign any longer than completely necessary."

"Very well, Doctor. I'll be on the Bridge. You will inform me when you're done, won't you?" Phlox gave one nod with an accompanying smile. "Absolutely, Lieutenant. The Ensign will be weakened considerably and may take a day or so to regain her normal strength. She will be fine in her quarters though I'm sure she would value a friend checking up on her well-being on occasion during her recovery?"

"Of course, Doctor." With one last lingering look at the prone body of Meara, he departed Sickbay. Even the seemingly unbreakable are vulnerable, he thought, as he made his way to the Bridge. Friends like Meara Shaw were too few in this Universe and too precious to ever be taken for granted. Malcolm realised in that moment, there were no lengths to which he wouldn't go to keep her safe…

* * *

"For goodness sake, Mal. You're clucking around me like a mother hen! If you ever leave Starfleet Security I'm sure Phlox has a lovely little Nurse's outfit that you'd look positively stunning in!"

"Oh shut up, woman," he said heatedly. "You've just been through an incredibly invasive treatment that has left you in a weakened state. If you don't lie down and relax, I'll be forced to comm Matthew to come to your quarters and pin you to the bed!"

Meara stopped her fidgeting and raised herself on her elbows. Malcolm closed his eyes, it dawning on him what he was about to called on. She was grinning like an idiot.

"I say… So it's 'Matthew' now is it?" Damn. "Shall I get you another pillow?" He turned his back to hide the blush threatening to break out.

Meara was aching from head to toe but she felt like dancing. Usually, it took a lot more effort on her part to encourage Malcolm to invest some of his precious time in other people who might actually do him some good, but evidently, this had been building for a lot longer than even Meara had initially considered. She guessed Malcolm had been in denial about the attraction for so long, he'd convinced himself it would be far more straightforward to start out hating the man and build on that. Less chance of a broken heart, or a compromised mission. He was a stickler for the rules after all. How does the saying go, the best lie is the one the liar believes.

"Mr Reed, you are positively glowing…" He turned around and threw the pillow at her. "Hey! That's no way to treat a patient! I'm fragile you know!"

"You, my lady, are about as fragile as…" He was about to say, Matthew Hayes' resolve, but thought better of it.

"You were saying?" She queried innocently as she prodded the pillow before propping her head against it.

He popped himself on the edge of the bed, looking at her intently. She raised her hand and brushed his cheek fondly. "So. Section 31…" She sighed. "I really don't have the energy to talk about that right now, Mal."

Malcolm bit his lip. "Of course. That was unfair of me. You need rest." He stood up. "We need an Ambassador primed and ready to kick some Klingon arse."

"Thank you," she whispered through a small smile as she looked down at her hands. She looked up suddenly. "Speaking of kicking Klingon arse…" She pressed the comm. "Shaw to Major Hayes." A heartbeat. "Hayes here." She was looking at Malcolm mischievously. 'What are you up to?' he mouthed at her. "Can I trouble you to come to my quarters? I have something I'd like to share with you. Shaw out."

Malcolm's face was a picture. "I certainly don't hope you plan on sharing me? I'd like to think I'd have some say—"

Meara rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Casanova. I'm sure we'll be able to keep it in our pants in your presence."

She reached under her bed and pulled out a flat-black case. "Put that on the desk, will you?" Malcolm did as he was bid just as the door chimed. "Come in!"

Hayes entered. A look of concern flashed his features at the sight of Meara. "You're concern is appreciated, Major," before he had a chance to say anything, "but I'll be right as rain in 24-36 hours." She didn't miss the look in his eyes when they came to rest on Malcolm, still standing next to her desk, hand resting on the black case.

"Major." "Lieutenant."

"Ahem! Gentlemen - when you're done drinking each other in," Meara stood up, a little wobbly and walked to the desk. "I thought you both might like to see this." She flipped open the case. Hayes' eyes widened and Malcolm was actually getting aroused at his first close up and personal moment with—. Hayes broke the reverie. "Is that a—?"

"Bat'leth? It certainly is." She picked it up and turned to them both. "Now. How about you two arm-wrestle for the honour of who gets to hold it first?" she said wickedly.

* * *

Enterprise was only one day from Klingon space.

Meara was increasing the intensity of her visualisation exercises. Melding with T'Pol had certainly helped her refine the technique. She could feel the sand beneath her feet, the weight of the Bat'leth in her hand. She could inhale the scent of Klingon sweat and blood, taste the Blood Wine on her lips. She felt the vibration of Qo'nos surge through her veins.

All preparing her for the trial ahead.

Meara had no intention of dying, nor any intention of killing her opponent. Much as she respected the Klingon way of life, she also embraced the compassion and mercy that came with being human, albeit an Augmented one. If there was to be any future collaboration between their two worlds, there would have to be a middle ground, an understanding that not every encounter had to end in death, as attractive as the prospect of a knees up in Sto-vo-kor afterwards might sound. In fact, Klingons seemed - to her at least - to be a little too literal with the interpretation of their own mythology. Sto-vo-kor welcomes warriors who die in battle against their enemies or, those who perform a heroic deed. Heroes are defined by their courage and nobility. And what could be more noble than sparing life? It made her a little queasy to think of the damage that could have been done had Phlox not made his discovery. All those lives, a species brought to its knees. Some people didn't deserve to use the title, Human. No matter how far we have come as a sentient species, there's always a few who prefer the dark to the light. In the dark, we can be whatever we want, and fool ourselves into thinking we are more than we are. In the light, all the scars of our evolution are plain to see. There is no running away and hiding from the cold reality, that at one time, we crawled on our bellies and cannibalised the dead. Embracing all those scars and loving them for what they define about Humanity is the only way to move forward and keep moving forward.

So here we are. Speeding towards an alien race and a future full of potential…

"Archer to Shaw."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Can you join me in the Command Centre please. We've received final instructions from Kolos and I need to go over them with you, Reed and Hayes." "I'll be right there, Sir." "Great. Archer out."

* * *

"A species can be judged on the strength of its weakest link." Archer paused to allow the words to sink in. Meara knew where this was going. "Those were the words Kolos spoke when he laid out the terms for the trial by combat."

He continued. "Case in point, the weakest link amongst this ship full of humans - present company accepted T'Pol - that represents our species is Ensign Shaw. Or, at least that is what the Klingons believe."

"She is one of the most recent additions to the crew and the trial is designed to test the strength of the chain of command and the leadership qualities of this Captain by pitting what is perceived to be weakest member of our crew against the youngest, most fresh-faced warrior the Klingons have to offer."

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear. Malcolm hadn't been sure why Meara was required to appear as one of the crew, though it wasn't his place to ask questions until those in command chose to share their plans. But obviously, for the ruse to work, everyone on board had to believe that's exactly what she was. If she'd come on board as Ambassador, everyone would have treated her with the excessive respect a diplomat deserved to command. This way, as part of the crew, she could blend in and Archer could be convincing when he presented her in front of the Klingon Chancellor and High Command. It was quite brilliant in its simplicity. Malcolm wondered if Kolos was in on the fact that their "weakest link" was in fact the next step in human evolution…

"We will be required to make a show of strength. Weakness is not accepted in any form, as we all know. And many of the High Council who have grudgingly agreed to this meeting would love to see Kolos - and us - fall flat on our face."

Archer looked at Reed and Hayes. "With that in mind, I'd like you both to assemble two teams containing seven members in each team - from Enterprise Security and the MACOs. Your best, gentlemen. Be selective."

"Yes Sir," they replied in unison.

"T'Pol and I will be meeting privately with Kolos—". Malcolm interrupted. "Are you sure that's wise, Captain? It may not be safe, there are still a lot of unknown elements in this situation." Archer smiled. Malcolm wouldn't be the best Head of Security in Starfleet if he didn't factor such scenarios and feel comfortable voicing them.

"Don't worry Malcolm. We will be rendezvousing with his Cruiser just shy of Klingon space."

He looked at his officers and heaved a breath. "Everyone clear?" "Yes Sir."

"Good. Let's do Humanity proud."

* * *

Malcolm caught up with Meara on her way back to her quarters. "Are you ready for this, Meara?" She stopped and looked at him, always warmed by his concern for the people he had chosen to allow to come close to the real Malcolm. "As ready as I'll ever be, Lieutenant. Do something for me, will you?"

"Anything." He looked somewhat relieved that she would ask. "Keep an eye on my back. And the Major's." She resumed her walk and Malcolm fell in beside her. "Now that goes without saying…"

"Trust, Malcolm. It's the most important factor in any relationship. Especially relationships like ours."

"I know," he replied.

"You were right back there. There are a lot of unknown elements. Regardless of the discussion and agreements understood between Earth and Klingon governments, we are the ones out here putting our lives on the line. Just keep that finely-tuned paranoid edge of yours front and centre when we're down there."

"Finally," he said with a slight smile while accentuating that beautiful British tone of his. "Back in my comfort zone…"

Hayes wasn't far behind as they reached the turbolift. As he came up behind them, Meara stepped through the door and looked over Reed's shoulder to catch his eye. He heard her say in an amused tone, "you can get the next one, Lieutenant." Before he could question why, the door slid shut and he felt the looming presence of the Major step up beside him.

"So," Hayes said, "what do you think? We got a snowball's chance in Hell of pulling this off?"

Reed stepped into the turbolift ahead of Hayes and turned around. "I think with a little luck and a lot of faith in Ambassador Shaw, we have every chance of pulling this off." His tone wasn't completely convincing and Hayes could detect just the slightest hint of doubt in his reserve. "As I said, lots of unknowns, and while thinking on my feet isn't completely second nature, I've got a feeling I'm going to get a lot of opportunities to practice on this mission."

Hayes smiled. He was still marvelling at the changes in Malcolm since Meara's arrival on board, even experimenting with a dark sense of humour. Well, darker than normal anyway. Maybe it was time to push the envelope a little.

Reed felt the jolt as the turbolift came to an abrupt halt. "What the—?"

"Apologies, Lieutenant," he heard Hayes say, though Reed didn't hear so much as a hint of regret in his tone of voice.

He stepped in front of Reed, again invading his personal space and transporting him back to the evening in his quarters.

"Hayes…" There was the smallest hint of warning on the edge of his voice. "We agreed…"

"Yes we did, Malcolm," Hayes said quietly. His eyes were dark and it was abundantly clear to Malcolm what was going through Hayes' mind. He was quite sure they were the same thoughts flooding his as well. "But as you so correctly pointed out, there are a lot of unknowns. And I don't want to go on this mission without knowing at least one thing…"

Hayes moved forward as Reed backed into the turbolift wall. There was no concern on his face, just curiosity as to what Hayes was planning. Hayes placed both his hands on the wall, either side of Reed's neck. Careful to keep their bodies apart, he trained his eyes on Malcolm's and leaned in.

The next eleven seconds were quite possibly the sweetest eleven seconds of Malcolm Reed's life. At least, he certainly could never recall an incident - either handling new weaponry or being held in someone's arms - that resulted in goosebumps travelling down the entire length of the back of his body right down to his Achilles heel.

Hayes dropped his hands and stepped back. Reaching for the panel, he started the turbolift up again.

For a moment, Malcolm said nothing. Finally coming back to his senses, he cleared his throat, tugged at the neck of his uniform - as if that would increase the lung capacity he had seemed to have momentarily lost - and tugged his sleeves down making a show of straightening his uniform. Hayes for his part, remained silent, his full attention given over to the turbolift door.

"That," said Malcolm finally, "was singularly the meanest thing you have ever done. And yes, it beats even a detached retina. By a long shot."

"Well, I thought it was very good actually," Hayes said nonchalantly.

Reed sighed as the lift came to a halt. "I mean," he continued, "now I know what I'm missing. I did not need to know what I was missing before we go into a dangerous and unpredictable situation."

Hayes stepped through the door and turned to face him. Before the door shut, he said casually, "Don't think of it as what you'd been missing, Malcolm. More like what you've got to look forward to…" Before Malcolm could respond, the door slid shut and Hayes turned towards the MACO Unit with a smile on his face. He could get used to getting one over on his senior officer.

'Damn the man,' thought Malcolm, as the turbolift sped towards the Bridge. He smiled to himself. 'Little soldier boy thinks he's got some moves and the jump on me? When this mission is over, he's in for the shock of his MACO life.'


	6. Chapter 6

"On screen, Travis." "Sir."

The sight rarely failed to cause a person to catch breath. Impressive, intimidating, deadly. A Klingon Bird of Prey was a sight to behold.

Hoshi broke the moment. "They're hailing us, Captain."

"Compose yourselves, people. Don't want to appear TOO intimidated."

The stern, scowling face of Kolos appeared. A year on Rura Penthe had taken its toll, but he had survived. "Greetings, Captain Archer. Very good of your Starfleet Command to send the scourge of the Klingon Empire to plead on their behalf for our assistance."

And the dance begins, thought Archer, with the Klingons taking the lead. Diplomacy for Archer had been a hard-learned, on-your-feet-as-you-go undertaking. He was no Ambassador but he could talk the talk when the situation required it.

"And they are - as are we - in your debt, Advocate Kolos." The dance was for the benefit of the other members of the Council, a demonstration of their deference to the superiority of the Klingon Empire. Archer was placing some of his hopes on the considerable talents of Ambassador Shaw to be able to redress that balance.

"As agreed," Kolos began, "your ship will remain here outside Klingon territory. It would not be wise to be seen venturing into our space. Not everyone in the Empire is yet ready to receive Humanity with open arms, Captain."

"Understood and agreed," replied Archer. "Though we will want to remain in contact with Enterprise at all times."

"While we cannot guarantee that, we will do what can be done to facilitate that request," replied Kolos. "We will send a transport to collect you and your team. How large is your party?"

"The complement is sixteen."

Kolos laughed. "Safety in numbers, yes Captain? Very well. The transport will dock with Enterprise shortly. Kolos out."

"Archer to Hayes. Assemble your teams and meet in the docking port in fifteen minutes." "Yes, Captain."

"Archer to Phlox." "Ready when you are, Captain. Ensign Shaw is with me." "Excellent. See you in the docking area shortly."

"T'Pol. You have the comm. Ready, Malcolm?" A curt but tense nod from the Lieutenant in the affirmative. Archer liked a tense Malcolm Reed. Coiled like a snake, always on guard. Good.

"Hoshi?" Hoshi Sato did not feel ready, but she wasn't about to let down her Captain. "Yes Sir."

"Take good care of my ship, Sub-Commander." "I expect you to take your own advice to heart, Captain." Archer smiled at her from the turbolift. Yup. Wouldn't be the bridge of Enterprise without her, he thought to himself.

Archer took a breath. Well, if the rest of the mission goes as well as that initial introduction, it'll be plain sailing. But after everything he and Enterprise had been through, Archer should know better than to allow such thoughts to germinate. They don't usually yield good fruit…

* * *

Kemper, Chang, Cole, Money and Rosenfeld were standing to attention while Hayes strolled up and down the line. The final pep talk. Kemper loved listening to Hayes in command mode. After serving under Hayes during the Xindi Crisis and having observed the way he had handled the loss of one of the longest serving men under his command, Fraser Hawkins, he hoped he could become half the MACO Major Hayes was.

"Right this is it, people. We've encountered Klingons before but this a whole new playing field for all of us. I expect to see nothing less than the discipline, control and professionalism that befits your part in this team." He stood, hands clasped behind his back, watching his most loyal and dedicated people, men and women he knew he could trust with his life.

"Let's show those Klingons the real meaning of the word 'honour'." "YES SIR!"

* * *

Boarded and making ready for their departure, once Kolos had gotten over his initial shock of meeting the "warrior" that would be representing her people in the trial by combat, and he and his crew had sufficiently contained their mirth, they set on their way to the planet. Malcolm and Hayes watched her carefully. She was betraying no disquiet, maintaining her cool, calm manner as Kolos circled her, giving her the occasional poke as if he couldn't quite believe she was real and this fragile-looking youth was expected to take on a Klingon. The Klingon first officer shouted above the reverie in his native tongue, that only Hoshi and Shaw could understand without their UTs switched on, "I hope they brought a bodybag!," eliciting yet another round of laughter.

Meara was the picture of controlled impassivity. Boy, she thought, are you lot in for a treat.

Kemper was sitting between a member of Reed's Security team and Chang. Opposite the Enterprise contingent, three Klingons were eyeing them like they were the main course of a buffet. 'Note to self,' thought Kemper, 'send Sub-Commander T'Pol a bunch of flowers for sharing her stash of nasal numbing agent...'

Fortunately, the trip to Qo'nos didn't take long. Hoshi thought it somewhat comforting that if they did get into trouble (which, let's face it, they did more often than they didn't), Enterprise wasn't too far away. As they entered the atmosphere, en route to the First City, Hoshi was always struck by how much the inhabitants of any world reflected the topography of their planets. Qo'nos was no different in that respect. It looked uninviting, jagged and dark, just like their hosts. Hoshi Sato's curiosity had gotten the better of her when Captain Archer had seduced her with his recording of the Klingon dialect. The man knew exactly how to play her. Well, play all his crew really. He'd recruited her for Enterprise's first mission to this world, despite her lack of space legs. And here they were again, under an entirely new set of circumstances. Diplomatic mission or not, they were dangerous circumstances. Hoshi sighed. She should have quit while she was ahead.

* * *

You would think, that after everything Malcolm Reed had gone through since the beginning of Enterprise's mission, he'd be prepared - at least mentally - for anything. He doubted however, anyone could be prepared for their first sight of Qo'nos capital city. Dark, imposing and oppressive didn't do it justice. The Enterprise contingent were gathered outside The Great Hall, flanked by a half dozen Klingons, awaiting invitation to enter from the Chancellor of the High Council. Reed guessed it was the pomp and circumstance of the occasion that merited such formalities. When he first encountered the Klingon race, he never would have afforded them the capacity of standing on such ceremony. A few enlightening conversations with Meara and Hayes had set him straight in that respect. Reed had been so preoccupied with mentally preparing himself for this mission and basing that preparation on limited past experience that he'd lost a little perspective.

He glanced to his right at Hayes and his MACOs and the slight but beautifully composed Meara Shaw standing between them. Malcolm was reminded of a time he had caught T'Pol in a semi-meditative state alone in the Observation Lounge. He wondered if she was on Vulcan now, recalling the peace and tranquility of her time there. Yes, he thought to himself, when we get back to Enterprise, maybe he'd approach T'Pol about teaching him a thing or two about meditation…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "With fire and steel did the gods forge the Klingon heart. So fiercely did it beat, so loud was the sound, that the gods cried out, 'On this day we have brought forth the strongest heart in all the heavens. None can stand before it without trembling at its strength! (Source: Memory Alpha, Wikia).

 

Kolo's voice boomed throughout the arena.

"WARRIORS PREPARE!"

Meara and her opponent stepped forward to the centre of the arena to face each other. The Klingon was a good two foot taller than her and built to withstand an avalanche of rocks. Dressed in battle attire, holding her Bat'leth, she made a reasonably opposing sight. At least Malcolm thought so. If Meara could dominate her opponent using the sheer will and energy emanating from Reed, Hayes and the crew right now, this would be a walk along San Francisco Bay. The Klingon leaned down. "Prepare to meet your maker, Human. I will tear out your heart and feed it still beating to my Targ." Meara met her eyes with a steady, unwavering look. "I hope your Targ has a taste for Klingon kidney, because that's what he'll be dining on tonight in the Great Hall after I remove yours from your bowels." The Klingon frowned. She wasn't expecting such a show of defiance from this puny female. "ARGHHH!" she spat out. Stepping back, she assumed an offensive stance.

Kolos words rang loud and clear. "baH yoDSutlIj naQ je tlhIngan tIq forge luchenmoH. vaj fiercely moq, vaj HoS jachpu'DI' wab 'e' jach luchenmoH. jaj strongest tIq yIqem yIra' maH chal Hoch. laH Qam pagh pa' 'oH Hutlh DeSDu' HoS trembling! YINISQO' CHUGH VAJ BIHEGH TAGH TRIAL!"

Meara stood still just shy of the centre of the arena and waited. She had opted for minimal clothing, enough to ensure modesty but close enough to her skin to guarantee her opponent would have difficulty grabbing anything that wasn't a limb or a head, and Meara had no intention of standing still long enough for her to pull off a move like that. She knew she could out-wait the Klingon. They weren't exactly renowned for their patience. Meara was quickly rewarded. With a roar, her opponent lunged forward, swinging the sword above her head, much to the delight of the watching crowd, certain that this human's minutes were numbered. When she was nearly upon Meara, Meara parried and dived through her legs, snagging her inner thigh deeply with her own Bat'leth as she slide through. With a cry, the Klingon went down on one knee, more from shock than pain.

"You fight like a bIHnuch!" She hissed as she turned for another run at Meara. "I fight. That's all I have to do. And send your laH'e' to Sto-vo-kor. If it will take you, of course…," she added with a touch of relish.

The noise from the crowd was deafening, but Meara focussed on her own heartbeat, measured, calm, strong. She was planning on being comforted by that sound for a long time to come.

Hayes was feeling a little naked without a weapon in such a highly charged setting, but as all weapons were stowed just outside the arena for the trial and the only ones were those in the hands of Meara and her Klingon opponent he thought it safe enough…

…Well, as safe as it can be surrounded by an arena full of blood-thirsty savages, thought Malcolm.

Hayes' heart lurched in his chest. Not for the first time since the start of this mission was he treated to the sight of Meara's skill in combat and unparalleled stealth and grace. The woman could probably shoot herself through the eye of a needle from a half klick away.

Ever alert to their surroundings, a commotion going on in one of the stalls opposite them above the arena distracted both his and Reed's attention from the main event. Meara was certainly gaining the upper hand. Her opponent's warrior friends evidently weren't too happy about this unexpected change in the Klingon wind so had decided to up the ante. Feeling the bloodlust and catching the scent of battle in the air, one of the targs had conveniently "broken free" from his chain. The beast scrambled eagerly across several spectators in an effort to leap into the arena. No one made any move to stop it.

The entire Enterprise crew were on their feet shouting for a halt to the trial. Kolos raised his hand to quiet the surging crowd. He looked over at Archer. "In battle, Captain, a warrior must be prepared for anything! ANYTHING! CONTINUE COMBAT!"

Archer looked at Meara, his face marred with concern, but she hadn't taken her eyes off the animal. The targ paused, breathing heavily from excitement and the exertion of fighting his owner to get off his leash. Obviously, he was curious about this creature having never seen one before. Malcolm was wondering if the animal was seeing a slab of succulent meat he was moments away from sinking his teeth into. He and Hayes exchanged a glance, but in this situation, they were powerless to intervene. This was trial by combat. This was the Klingon Way. When Meara had asked him to watch their backs, she hadn't been referring to the trial. It was the aftermath with which she was concerned. Many would not be happy with the outcome and they might be hard pressed to use a diplomatic solution to extract themselves from the situation. The aftermath mostly hinged on Kolos and his scant number of supporters.

Standing behind the Targ which was ignoring the Klingon, Meara's opponent had paused to take stock of the situation, eager to see how the human would handle this turn of events. Maybe the Targ would do the job for her. She hadn't relied on the pale, little insect being so quick on her feet, but a Targ, quick and vicious to its very bones? It may well make short work of this "Meara." She'd have to adopt the Targ, maybe they could eat the human's heart together…

Neither animal nor Klingon were prepared for what Meara did next.

* * *

"Don't move, Meara." Her Uncle's soft voice soothed her momentary fear, which she somehow, got quickly under control. The animal could definitely sense it, his snarl widening to reveal even more of the jagged canines and strong jaw that had sunk teeth into its fair share of game. Meera took control, subconsciously reaching out to the animal. She mirrored his breathing, relaxed her body, softened her eyes. There was no threat to be felt from these humans. Heartbeats began to synchronise. Meera slowly lowered her body so that she was eye level with the wolf. He lowered his head, eased his body gently, warily forward. He was mere feet away. Meera lowered her body even further and tipped her eyes towards the ground. The next thing she knew, a rough, wet tongue carressed her face.

She was eight years old. Young enough to tap the instinct that would one day meld with the intellect that she was destined to develop and possess. Her Uncle had taken her hunting for the first time. Never to kill. Getting close without the animal's knowledge was the real goal. Mastery of self, the real achievement. Not to dominate but to embrace the animal within; understand the DNA that lay dormant in all humans, but could be woken. If one knew how. And who better equipped to do that than the next step in human evolution?

Meera stood. The targ was lying at her feet in submission. Now, it was the silence that was deafening. Meara couldn't help but give a small smile as she reached down again and patted the animal's belly. He smelled worse than a pit of decomposing innards but Meara had made a friend. And was now standing opposite a very worried Klingon…


	8. Chapter 8

For the next fifteen standard Earth minutes, Meara gave the spectators a pretty good show, if she did think so herself. After the Targ's betrayal, her opponent's rage was the undoing of her. The Targ, for his part, had paid the ultimate sacrifice and although Meara wasn't one for sentimentality, it had reminded her of her first similar encounter and she felt a fleeting pang of regret. The Targ had lunged for the Klingon's ankles as she and Meara barrelled - screaming obscenities and battle cries - towards each other. Meara had taken decent advantage of the momentary distraction provided by the animal, by using the Targ's body to propel and launch herself over the shoulder of the Klingon, allowing the pointed edge of her Bat'leth coupled with the pull of gravity, to leave a gash halfway down her back, rolling away from the move. Considerably weakened, but by no means out of the fight, the Klingon proceeded to give Meara the fight of her life, Meara allowing a few well-earned punches, kicks and cuts to her own body. Her goal was not to humiliate the Klingons, especially at their own game. That would certainly not bode well for Enterprise and her crew… At one point, the Klingon thought she had her, but a countermove by Meara, involving a Vulcan Death Grip and the force of gravity on the oversized Warrior was her undoing. She was out cold.

The crowd were understandably enraged, but more so at this show of weakness by one of their own. None could understand. Was it sorcery? Were these humans some kind of metabeings? Many wanted nothing more than to converge on the arena and rip the Human limb from limb… Meanwhile, the Chancellor, Kolos and the other High Council members looked on. This was not how events had been expected to unfold. Kolos for his part, had learned not to underestimate Humanity. It had taken many months of discussion with the High Council to accept his proposal of meeting with them. The Chancellor had been not wholly prepared for what he had witnessed. "SILENCE!" he bellowed above the din. But the crowd were still hurling Klingon curses at her like they were rocks.

Meara raised her head to look at the Council. Her Bat'leth followed. This was the moment of truth. She spoke her first words - in Klingon - to the gathered crowd since entering the arena, loud and clear above the din. "Victory to the future Qo'nos/Earth Alliance!" Again, silence did reign supreme. Archer and his crew took a collective breath.

The speech that followed would define the two worlds' slow but steady steps into the future.

* * *

"I am a Warrior. I stand before the mightiest of the Klingon Empire, humbled and honoured to share that title, representing my people in embracing the Klingon Way. Like Klingon society, not all humans are born warriors. Like us, you have your teachers, your politicians, your doctors, your scientists, your advocates. But even within the body of each of these, sits the beating heart of a Warrior, forged in fire and tempered with steel. We are worlds apart and yet we share a common vision. The future of our children and the protection of our identity, our way of life. For that purpose, Warriors will always be needed. While Klingons find honour by death in battle, humans find honour in a well-lived life filled with purpose. Whether that purpose be to teach, to heal, to learn, to guide, inside each of us, is the beating, burning heart of a Warrior. The bloodlust comes and goes. The desire to dominate sometimes overwhelms us, but ultimately, we are the protectors of what we hold most precious to our worlds."

Meara dropped on one knee and bowed her head as she laid her sword gently down before her. She looked up at the High Council members again.

"Allow humanity the honour of fighting for and defending our mutual interests side-by-side with the Klingon Empire, against those who would see the end of a galaxy united in its diversity."

* * *

"That was one hell of a speech. Ensign Shaw." Hayes was looking at her like he might explode with pride. Despite the mutual feeling he shared with Hayes on the subject, Malcolm was tense. This was the part where things really could go wrong.

The members of the High Council, some Klingon dignitaries and the Earth guests of the Empire had converged on an annex to the Great Hall to share a meal in honour of the occasion. Two Klingon Warriors were present for every member of Enterprise's Security detail, a situation not lost on either Reed or Hayes. Their party, their rules, supposed Malcolm.

"Thank you, Major. Just telling it like it is." She stood flanked by Reed and Hayes. In front of her, Phlox was performing a bioscan and gave her a hypospray to take a little of the sting out of her wounds. Archer came up behind them, "I think there's a long way to go before we can get a handle on what the "is" actually IS, Ensign, but you made a damn fine stab at the beginnings of a definition. From the scowl on his face, I'd say the Chancellor was grudgingly impressed with your performance and your speech." He turned to Phlox. "All well, Doctor?" "It would seem so, Captain." "Excellent," he replied. I'd like you, Hoshi and the Enterprise Security to return to the ship. Half your contingent as well, Major," Archer said, with a nod to Hayes. "No need for any of you to suffer the next part," he said with a slight grimace, as he stepped past them to join the Chancellor and Kolos at the Head Table, while his remaining contingent took their places on one of the flanking tables.

Reed looked at the food and, were it possible, went an even paler shade than he was currently sporting. Hayes caught the look and gave him a brotherly slap on the back. "Come on, Lieutenant. New life and new civilisations, as you Fleeters are so fond of saying. Where's your sense of adventure?" His predicament wasn't lost on Meara. During Starfleet Academy, Malcolm could barely hold down anything more exotic than a vegetable curry. "I may have left it back on Enterprise, along with your sense of humour, Major," he replied with more than a hint of annoyance. "I reckon you can get away with sampling the warnog, Lieutenant, and maybe the pipius claw," Meara said with a smile, "Won't kill ya, but you might be queasy for a day or two." "Very reassuring, thank you Ensign," he said as they took their seats.

Once thanks were given for the banquet and the room was settled - or as settled as a roomful of Klingons could be on a first diplomatic contact - Chancellor M'Rek graced Archer with his attention. "So, Captain," he began, as he loaded his plate with food, "what exactly do your - Starfleet - and Earth hope to really achieve with this exercise?" Archer had been briefed by Kolos on the nature of the Chancellor. He could be fair but demanded almost grovelling respect to keep him on side. "I hope my Ensign made that clear, Chancellor. Earth would not wish to make an enemy of the might of the Klingon Empire. We are new to exploration and since beginning have learned much about ourselves - our strengths and our weaknesses." Kolos was listening to the exchange with a slight smile. Knowing what little he did of Archer, he understood he possessed as much pride as a Klingon, so this display of deference must have been sticking in his gut deeper than a D'k tahg… M'Rek gave a grudging "Humph" in response as he stuffed his face with food. As the conversation went on, the Klingons sitting opposite the Enterprise crew were goading one of their comrades. Meara could pick up what they were saying, ever diligent in the needs of her friend, she had thought that the most delicate looking (to a Klingon anyway) human male amongst them would become a target. One of the larger Klingons rose from his seat and was heading straight for Malcolm. Meara placed the anti-nausea hypo against Malcolm's thigh. Malcolm felt the pressure of the hypo and before he could react, felt the looming presence of the Klingon.

"Were you Klingon, you wouldn't have made it past your first day breathing life, puny human." Malcolm put his hand on Hayes' shoulder who was making a move to stand and threw him a warning look. This was his fight. He stood. "I believe my student proved to you today, that size is irrelevant in our species when it comes to battle," he spat back with equal disdain. He then lifted his cup of ale and drained it in one go before slamming it down and leaning forward, as the Klingon leaned down to meet his gaze. "The female? You are her mentor?" A single nod was the response. The Klingon leaned back and exhaled a raucous laugh. "Then today, is not your day to die," he said turning back to his place, "I hope I have the pleasure of meeting you on the battlefield, mentor." "Then it will be a good day to die," replied Malcolm. The Klingon laughed again and returned to his place to tell his comrades of the exchange.

He sat back down, keeping his eyes on the Klingon before grabbing the jug of ale to refill his cup. Hayes' and Meara's expressions said it all. "What?" he asked.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hayes had never felt so helpless. The irritating little British bastard was dying in his arms and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it…_

* * *

**One hour earlier**

As the meal concluded, and the attendees were filing out of the Great Hall in small groups, some of the old dignitaries were hovering around and bouncing questions off Meara as to what it was like to be such a fine Warrior amongst humans. Meara was exercising all her talents in diplomacy and patience to keep them engaged and entertained with exaggerated tales of heroism and valour on Earth through the ages. She could see the light in their dimmed eyes rekindle, as if recalling times past when they lived and breathed the Warrior Code. Kolos glanced up to see a familiar face heading in his direction. He frowned. She had no reason to be here unless there was a situation that required his immediate attention.

He took his leave from Archer and Chancellor M'Rek as she approached. "This cannot be good," he said frowning. "No, Advocate Kolos. It is not."

* * *

 "WHAT TREACHERY IS THIS?!" M'Rek all but spat the words in Archer's face. Having adjourned to a private chamber at the request of Kolos, he, Archer and the Kolos were, it seemed, on the verge of being back to square minus one with respect to Human/Klingon relations. Archer was looking at the decrypted transmission that had been intercepted by a Klingon monitoring post, outlining in great detail the plan to penetrate the Klingon Empire and bring it to its knees using Meara Shaw as a living, breathing bioweapon. Archer was faced with a choice: Deny the charge as a ruse to disrupt any hope of an accord between their worlds and hope they never uncovered the lie or, admit the truth now, in the face of certain anger, possible incarceration and trial for him and Meara Shaw and put all his chips on rolling the Kolos dice.

"Before I answer these charges, will you hear me again, as you heard me before?" Archer asked. "So you can blind us with yet more treachery, Human?" M'Rek growled the last word as though it were an insult. "In my limited experience, Chancellor, all species are capable of treachery. None more so that those who may feel the might of the Klingon Empire too great a force with which to be reckoned." "A propensity for deception combined with a magnificent way with words, Captain Archer," interjected Kolos. "I think we should be more worried about Humanity than they about Klingons." Kolos had a way of calming M'Rek, noticed Archer. Thank the stars for at least one rational Klingon. The Chancellor and the Advocate sat as Archer stood before them. "Speak. We will listen. Whether we are convinced remains to the seen." Archer took a breath and rolled the dice. "It's true," he stated plainly.

* * *

 Archer did not mince his words. He explained the events during the journey to Qo'nos, how they uncovered the virus and their subsequent discovery of the involvement of Terra Prime, a small but dangerously influential faction on Earth with designs on preventing the forging of any off-world relationships with other alien nations. Archer knew he was trusting them with a lot of information, but right now, the benefits seemed to outweigh the risks to him and Enterprise.

M'Rek and Kolos were silent as they absorbed the information. "We admire your candour, Captain Archer," M'Rek began. Archer could barely contain his sigh of relief. M'Rek stood. "The only reason we are every beginning to indulge your… story… is because we also understand all too well the treachery that lies within and how it can tear down everything, to which a group of visionaries devote their lives, in the blink of an eye." He paused. "Klingon intelligence has been keeping a very close eye on the Romulans of late. There appears to be increased activity along our borders though no encroachment." "Yet," concluded Kolos. M'Rek stood up and walked up to Archer. "If we may make a suggestion, Captain, Earth would do well to keep a close eye on the Romulans as well." Archer looked momentarily puzzled. "The encryption code used on the message. We have seen it before. On Romulan intercepted transmissions." Archer filed that information away for future consideration. Right now, he was relieved that although an impasse, the possible fallout was not as dire as it could have been. M'Rek held out his arm which Archer gripped in a show of tentative solidarity. "It would seem neither of us are ready to move forward with an Alliance." Kolos spoke as he moved to stand beside his Chancellor. "That said, today we have identified a potentially common enemy." Archer gripped Kolos forearm firmly. "And on my world, we have a saying, Advocate. The enemy of my enemy, is my friend." Kolos couldn't help but chuckle. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, Captain…"

* * *

 Reed, Hayes, Meara and the three MACOs were awaiting Archer in the outer entrance to the Hall. Their weapons retrieved, all looked considerably more at ease. Hayes leaned over to Malcolm, his eyes on the group of Klingons awaiting to escort the Chancellor and the Council from the Great Hall. "I think you've made a new friend." Reed gave him a sly look. "Jealous?" Hayes wasn't going to be outdone. "Maybe a little," he replied. "He's got much better arms than I have." Meara was watching their exchange with amusement. 'Today would have been a good day to die, if the last thing I'd seen was a smiling Malcolm Reed,' she thought.

Having taken their leave, the crew boarded the transport to return to Enterprise. As they took their seats, Meara was looking at Archer and the mixed expressions warring on his features. "Did your meeting with the Chancellor go well, Captain?" she asked. "As well as can be expected under the circumstances, Ensign," came the response. "Let's wait until we're safely on board our own stomping ground and I'll fill you all in." "Of course, Sir." He looked her up and down. "How are you feeling, Ensign?" "Quite weakened if I'm honest, Captain. Nothing a little shore leave in the company of your fine crew won't cure." He smiled and nodded. "On that we can agree."

Malcolm was watching them intently. "You alright, Lieutenant?" "I'll be fine, Major, once we're back on Enterprise. We are still in Klingon space, you know." "True, but—" The next 30 seconds were the longest of Matthew Hayes' life.

* * *

 The three MACOs had no time to react when, with a cry, a Klingon surged from the back of the transport, eyes intently on his prize - the female who had humiliated his House with her display in combat. The ever alert tactical officer was the first one to react, lunging at his side and hurdling his body crashing against the side of the transport. Just as Hayes was firing his phaser weapon at his attacker, he heard a twisted cry from Reed. And saw the blade's hilt jutting out from the side of his falling body.

Meara was the first to recover her senses. Instinctively, the MACOs had already their weapons trained on the transport pilots and their 3 escorts. "KEEP GOING!" she shouted at the pilot and co-pilot who grudgingly sat back down at the controls. Meara turned her attention to Malcolm. Hayes had turned him on his side to try and slow the bleeding. "Leave the knife where it is," ordered Meara, "we don't know what the internal damage is." Archer was by Malcolm's head, words of encouragement flowing from him, keeping him strong. Meara was finding it difficult to control her ebbing rage. But as she looked at Malcolm instead of the Klingons, she found she could channel it in the right direction. "Contact Enterprise," she ordered the co-pilot, "tell them the situation and have them meet us as soon as they can inside Klingon space." She looked to Archer. "I hope you agree, Sir, it's worth the risk." Archer didn't need to consider it, nodding once in the affirmative.

* * *

 Malcolm Reed wasn't faring very well. "I don't think I ever told you, Hayes," Malcolm rasped, "you are one hell of a soldier." "Don't speak, Malcolm. Save your breath." Reed coughed, a little blood makes its way to the corner of his mouth. His glazed expression the one of a man slipping into the oblivion of death.

Hayes had never felt so helpless. The irritating little British bastard was dying in his arms and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it…

But Meara wasn't giving up on her friend. Even if she had to die trying to save him.

* * *

 Malcolm Reed was dying. He knew he was dying. He'd walked that path near death several times in his life, though never before had he known the experience to be so calm and complete in its clarity.

He's floating, in a vast empty space, except its water, dark, whole, tranquil. He fills his lungs but he's not afraid. He feels strangely at peace.

_"Do it Phlox." "Ensign," he said patiently, "the chances of this working are marginal at best." "Good enough for me," she replied tersely, exposing her neck to give Phlox easy access to the carotenoid vein, pulsing strongly. "Transfusion with my blood is the only thing that will save him." "But it may kill you, Ensign," came the reply of the ever-moral ship's physician. She looked pleadingly at him. "We have to try."_

As he continues to breathe in the water, he watches in the silence as his body comes apart cell by cell, merging perfectly with their surroundings. It's beautiful. Perfection.

_"IT'S NOT YOUR TIME!", Meara screamed at the prone body of her friend. "It's not your t…." Trailing off as Phlox punched the hypospray - twice - into her neck._

Warmth pulses through him, out from him, around him. And suddenly Meara was there with him. He hears her voice, smooth as silk and light as air, inside his head. "Don't you die on me, Malcolm…"

Malcolm felt a surge of energy permeate every atom of his body that could have rivalled the energy fusion reaction in a warp core.

 _"Come back, Malcolm. Enterprise needs you. Your Captain needs you. I— I— need you."_ It wasn't Meara's voice. Muffled, but strong and firm. He kicked forward, felt a hand wrap around his, and broke the surface.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note
> 
> When I started writing this, it just began as a piece of slash fiction that I felt I needed to get out of my system. I didn't realise how much I cared about the life and needs of Malcolm Reed until his needs became a focus of the story. Looking back at my love and experience of the show, I realised that Malcolm was a great character who didn't really get to stretch his legs often enough for my liking (but I suppose cancellation after four seasons will do that). Sometimes he felt more like a plot device that a real character. I thought that was a waste. I did what I could to make life better for Lieutenant Reed by bringing a positive element from his past back into his world in the shape of Meara Shaw.
> 
> On reflection, it was Episode 'E2' that made me feel Malcolm Reed deserved better. "You'd think I would've found somebody on a ship this size."
> 
> So here's to all the Meara Shaws out there who are doing their level best in the universe of fan fiction to make life better for our lesser appreciated heroes. 
> 
> Thanks for making it this far.
> 
> PS A special thanks to Eireann who set me straight on a few things in my writing. Like Meara, I shall endeavour to evolve!

_Well. Here be the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. I'm a first timer so really appreciate your giving it a chance._

* * *

"So? What now for Meara Shaw?"

The crew from the Qo'nos mission were gathered in the Observation Lounge, taking a moment to wind down from the bittersweet start to relations with the Klingon Empire. A diplomatic incident could be avoided. Neither government wanted to draw too much attention to the attempted - and failed - Alliance as it would unsettle other less enlightened species in the sector. Meara hoped in time, the damage done by Terra Prime could be tempered, though she knew the Klingons trust would be hard won a second time. It could be more than a century before relations could be successfully reestablished. Meara was sure there would be much wrangling and upheaval in the interim.

"I believe my place is still with Section 31, Captain. Though I understand why you don't approve." "You're right I don't. Still, just because I don't approve, I feel more than reassured knowing someone of your calibre is sitting in their midst."

"Thank you, Captain."

She noticed Malcolm enter the room. "Won't you excuse me, Sir?" He spotted Malcolm and smiled, "Of course." He rested a firm hand on her arm. "Thank you for saving my Head of Security," his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. She nodded. "I would have died trying, Sir." She headed over to her friend. 'I hope I can know such devotion and loyalty in my life,' thought Archer. "Captain…," the soft timbre voice interrupted his thoughts. 'Though maybe I already do,' he concluded privately, as he turned to address his First Officer.

Malcolm smiled as she approached and reached out to wrap her in a warm embrace. "Let's not leave it another eight years before we see each other again? Besides, I think the Major has grown quite fond of you too," Malcolm said as he caught the slightly haunted expression from Hayes cast his way, standing amidst his team. "I think I can fit you both into my schedule," she said warmly.

* * *

Shore leave.

Enterprise was en route to its favoured planetary destination for some well-earned down time before returning to Earth.

Kinda feels like we deserve it, thought Hayes. He wasn't, under normal circumstances, a man to indulge in such things, but he'd had a few wakeup calls during the Xindi Crisis and more recently, since the manifestation of Meara Shaw invaded his world. He was looking forward to spending some downtime with them both, strengthening the friendship. People like that come along once in a lifetime, and Hayes may be drenched head-to-toe in military discipline and the benefits of objectivity, but he was also just a man, a man who knew a good thing when he saw it, recalling for a moment the first time he had set eyes on Joshua…. He was in the midst of his reverie as he made some final checks before heading for the Shuttlepod. So absorbed in both, he failed to hear the bay door open. He felt him before hearing or seeing him.

"I thought I'd come to say goodbye," Reed said, "before you go planetside, Major." "Not so much goodbye as see you in 24 hours now, is it Lieutenant?" replied Hayes, not taking his eyes off the console. "Quite right," came the reply before starting his turn to leave.

To hell with it, thought Hayes.

He turned round and grabbed the front of Malcolm's uniform, all but lifting him off the platform, placing him on the console and pressing him into the viewscreen behind. "This is inappropriate, Major." Before Malcolm knew it, Hayes had his lips on his neck and was whispering softly. It seemed, Matthew had picked up reasonably quickly what Malcolm responded to. "You know I don't think I ever told you, after that firefight in the trellium mines, it took every ounce of my willpower not to hunt you down after decon and show you exactly how impressed I'd been with your tactical skills down there." Malcolm felt his resolve waning, Hayes' words doing little to help him keep his self-control in hand. "Then I'd say it's a good thing you managed to restrain yourself, Major, otherwise one or both of us may well have ended up in traction," Malcolm replied distractedly. Remembering the strength he still possessed residually in his system from Meara's blood transfusion, he made to relax beneath his grip before feeling Hayes relax in kind. Malcolm took the opportunity to quickly reverse the situation. Hayes was smiling in modest admiration. "How about you take me to your quarters and say goodbye properly, Sir?" Malcolm took a step back. "I'll have to teach you a thing or two about fraternising while on duty, Major. See you in 24 hours," he said, before climbing off the platform with as much decorum as was available to an officer in his state.

'Time,' thought Malcolm as he headed for the door, 'is a relative pain in the backside.' Because in 24 hours, when he finally got Matthew Hayes where he wanted him, he was fairly certain he wouldn't last 24 seconds.

* * *

"If you'll excuse me, Malcolm. I've yet to find a diplomatic solution to some other tensions that require attention…" Malcolm sipped his drink before saying, "I would have thought you would have exorcised all that tension in the Klingon Combat arena." "Augments, Mal. By the very definition of the word—."He didn't let her finish. "You know, I'd be more than happy to—". She didn't let him finish either. Meara put her fingers to his lips. "Wherever you're heading with that train of thought, Mr Reed, I'd advise you to pull the emergency stop lever before derailment." He smiled cheekily. "I didn't realise Augment capabilities stretched to the realm of mind-reading." "Where your mind is concerned, the ability is unnecessary. Oh hello, Major. Settled in?"

"I am. And Matthew will be just fine, Ambassador," he said with a respectful nod. At least in these surroundings…" "Apologies. Matthew. Old habits." Hayes allowed his gaze to meet that of Reed's. "Just arrived, Lieutenant?" enquired Hayes. "Not two hours ago, Major." He placed the remainder of his drink on the bar. "If you'll both excuse me, I'm going to unpack and freshen up before dinner." Meara and Hayes watched as he sauntered up the steps to the sleeping area. Meara cleared her throat as Hayes tore his eyes away from the sight to meet hers, looking up at him expectantly. "Don't you think you should, um, go help him freshen up, Matthew?" There was that Denobulan-esque grin again. "You know I think I will. See you at dinner, Meara."

* * *

Malcolm lay on his stomach and watched the rise and fall of Hayes' chest as he lay on his back sleeping. "I could grow quite accustomed to waking up to that sight every morning," he murmured to himself. Hayes opened one eye, startling Malcolm. "I'm glad to hear that, Mr Reed." "Oh. I— I thought you were asleep." Hayes propped himself up on an elbow to look down at him. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have let that little comment slip?" he enquired, gently tracing fingers down his back. "Well, it would be remise of me to give you ALL the power in this relationship," he replied. "I gave you quite a lot of said last night if memory serves…" Matthew smiled. "Malcolm. You didn't give me any power." His hand was travelling back up his spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He leaned down to rest his forehead on his temple and whispered, warm breath caressing his ear, "you surrendered to yourself, not to me." Malcolm turned to lie on his back, Hayes' sober expression reflective as he trailed his thumb along the faint scar left by the Klingon blade beneath his ribs, a constant reminder of another reality without the presence of Malcolm Reed. "I only hope I'm worth it." "Well, if you'll permit me, I'd be more than happy to demonstrate how much I think you're worth, MACO," came the low timbre response. 'Mmmm… Husky and British sure do complement each other,' thought Hayes. "OWW! What the bloody blazes was that?!," Malcolm said gruffly. "What?" Hayes asked. "Oh that. Just a little "Cling On" move I picked up during my training at West Point…" Malcolm laughed. Yes, he thought, as he watched Malcolm's face, he loved that sound and everything that came with it. And yes. Matthew Hayes was more than happy to demonstrate how much a man of his word he truly was.

* * *

The sheets rolled like an ocean at war with itself. Yes, thought Meara, this was long overdue. Good to get it all out of the system before returning to Earth. Because when I do get back, she thought darkly, there will be hell to pay…

* * *

**Epilogue**

D'Ulev read the encrypted transmission again. He stood and looked out the porthole of his private cabin. It certainly wasn't the outcome for which they had hoped and worked towards, but it had successfully halted any chance of an Alliance in its tracks. For now at the very least. A divided galaxy was much easier to predict and control. Romulus would one day be the world to unite that galaxy. Not Humans, not Klingons and certainly not their estranged brethren, the Vulcans. A Galaxy united under the Romulan Empire. He smiled imperceptibly. What a vision that was to behold…

**END**


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